Lucky Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

The Lucky Old Man

There was an old man from Keokuk,
Who suffered a spate of bad luck,
He said with a grin,
When he finally got in,
I couldn't buy a break for a buck!

The Lucky Devil

I think of the end, and I ask god why.
All the suffering, this world can supply.

Not willing to tell, just let us find out.
The psychics will say, what it's all about.

But it gives no help, to shine like the sun.
When the world today, is coming undone.

Living our lives large, all part of the show.
For when you've no choice, then go with the flow. 

The sky's the limit, we've known from the start.
The lucky devil, is one with a heart!

Premium Member Get a room

Got a dirty room to broom 
To make it spic, span, zoom
Tumbled on the greasy floor
Pale flew here, broom yore
Glad, a pretty nurse came to groom


Premium Member Demolition by Soft Touches

At first I wasn’t even interested in him
Failures in love made my passion dim
But his chocolate charm won me over
His humor disarms like a gift
Like a green four leaf clover

How lucky I am that he loves so freely
Winning me over certainly wasn’t easy
Dipping my toe into red volcano his love
Was dangerously freeing hot and sexy
Soft hard then soft again touches so grand

Lips quivering legs shivering 
Melting my inhibition like
Ice in summer’s July
I cherry chant as I gaze in eyes
Soft touches take me high
make me cry 
demolition by soft strides

Premium Member Luckiest woman in Las Vegas

she finds a four-leaf clover almost every day
discovers dimes on gray sidewalks lining her way
quarters shower her during a visit to Casino Green
She is the luckiest woman Las Vegas has ever seen

Young Love

A wise man unwritten letter
To his future self
A prickly feeling that keeps one on their feet
You notice the other but never yourself 
You make time for the other 
Stand on your feet and call out mistakes 
A wild free feeling 
Wanting for the wind
Can't grasp it 
It's fleeting yet memorable
A whisper in the morning 
A loud cry in the night 
Exchanged letters and clothes 
To become a memory no one should talk about 
Cupcakes on Mondays
Sorbet on Thursdays
But you preferred Saturdays
Confessions said out loud
The heart not so sure 
A wild free feeling 
It's the magic they all talk about 
To only turn devastating and tragic
Makes you wonder 
It changes 
Against two people 
What becomes of it when a third arrives?
I haven't experienced it 
But this is my definition 
Comprehension is never taking seriously 
Only the lucky ones
What is it actually?
It's quite haunting and daunting 
If you ask me
I wanted to know what it was like
But I was scared my balloon will fly away
When I give it out


Premium Member How Lucky We Are

I see stars white and bright, but when I see you 
I see the stars turn from white, to a light shade of blue 
Because fireworks boom, and my heart starts to pound 
Wherever, or whenever, my love comes around  
Then I think to myself... 
How lucky am I 

She sees the ocean waves blue, but when she sees me 
She sees the ocean turn from blue to a light colored green 
Because fireworks boom, and her heart starts to pound
Whenever, or wherever, I do come around 
Then she thinks to herself... 
How lucky am I 

We see different colors- blue, green and white 
We see them turn colors- when we turn off the light 
Because fireworks boom, and our hearts start to pound 
Wherever, or whenever, we are together around 
And we think to ourselves 
How lucky we are

Granddad's Lucky Marble - DHR

Granddad carried
one green marble
in his pocket.

He said
it never liked
staying there
after dark.

Every night,
it rolled beneath
someone's bed
and borrowed
a little tomorrow.

Never birthdays.

Never Christmas.

Only the little tomorrows—
the afternoon
you'd finally
learn to whistle.

The morning
you'd notice
the ladybug
on your shoelace.

The day
you'd wave
to the lonely postman.

By sunrise,
it had returned
to Granddad's pocket,
where those little tomorrows
curled together
like coloured smoke.

Sometimes,
he'd hold it
to the light
and smile
at something
I couldn't see.

He said
that's why
old people
sometimes smiled

at empty swings,

at worn-out shoes,

at the evening sky.

They weren't remembering
yesterdays.

They were living
the little tomorrows.

The marble
had returned.

Last Tuesday,
I noticed
a ladybug
on my shoelace.

I smiled
before I remembered
why.

Lucky it was not me

The scooter raced past my auto.
My heart skipped a beat.

He hit another scooter beside us —
a heavy thud split the road.

It happened all of a sudden.
For a moment, I could not understand.

I felt sorry for those who were hit.
My auto paused; I felt scared.

I wanted the auto to move.
I did not wish to look at their pain.

Luckily, the auto moved on,
and I felt relief.

Someone would pick them up.
They would gather themselves somehow.

Accidents are easy to read in the news,
but ugly to witness.

O my God,
I was lucky it was not me.

What was their hurry?
They could have slowed down,
could have avoided hitting each other.

I felt better as we moved past.
It would become another story
I would eventually forget.

If One is Lucky

If one is as lucky as me,
They will experience,
At least once in their lifetime,
What it means to be,
Welcomed into a house,
That drips LOVE,
From every pore,
Every Crevice, 
Every Space, 
Inside and outside.

A house turned into a home,
A Home,
That could only come into being,
By the efforts of an exceptional Human Being,
With the ability to paint Hate,
Out of the picture,
And out of contention,
For possession.

Premium Member So Lucky

So Lucky,
Mr. LUCKY!

QUACK QUACK!

But On You...

Such Water...

Over The Dam...

Mr. Lucky?

Why Don’t You
Do More?

More And More?

Yeah, Look At All The
Lucky's, Pounding At Your Door...
Knock-knocking Out The
Doubts, As If There Weren't Any
Out With The Doubts...

Satisfied?

You Wish...

I Have I Mentioned
How Entertaining
It Is???

How Now? 

Good.  Lucky Good.

Is What Is.

In The Mood.

-Gray Squirrel

04-19-2026

Premium Member Fortuitous

You lucky, lucky thing, you got away this time,
said the fish to the anglers hook and bait,
as it jumped and missed, once, twice and thrice.
the day passed in watery waves, 
amongst fronds and roots, 
planktons and corals, swirling currents 
that brought other food in plenty,
but the loss of that piece of worm,
left it in remorse. 
It swore it would get it next time,
and planned how it would lie in wait
the next day, and jump with all its might,
to grab it tight, and make a meal of it for 
once and all!
Next day, the bait came down 
but just as it prepared to fly towards it
it was grabbed by another!
and another and another!
So it was, the fish lived its life,
in the depth of the lake, grabbing
food the waves brought,
never succeeding to grab
that damned bait!
“How awful!” it would often recall!
“ A failure, I have to live with, shall 
never ever, try again!”

Whoever were lucky enough to be the one who evokes!!!!

Whoever were lucky enough to be the one who evokes in you the most sacred part of your being, the one whose purpose is the desire to explore your beautiful heart and take part in its beating, where in feeling that consanguineous desire he would emulate the loveliest expression upon seeing those eyes and, with resolve, make the most sublime decision in the measure of a love without restrictions, where verse will become prose and emulate that feeling, wrapping it in an emphatic nervousness that only with the magnetism of your love will free that heart from all evil, giving life to a new freedom of wanting, shared!!!!!

                                                                 Lraularguellesm!!!!!

Premium Member My Lucky Penny Misprint

A one-time freelance stamp collector,
Tiny flaw, red-inked inferred branch,
One cent stamp, collectors gem,
Misprint worth six thousand,
Dealers called it rare,
Cash in my hand,
Lucky strike,
Good find,
Mine.

Premium Member We were always the lucky ones

Heading home where a warm meal waited



AP: 3rd place 2026

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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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