Madame Poems - Poems about Madame

Hashish smoke trails her along a dusky corridor Aka the hall of fires where mirage chimeras unleash Encumbered with hands splayed her crystal ball lumens wires ghostly apparitions mnemonic attachments What mystery ensues a phantasmagoria of horror nudging the demonic Sitters drenched in profuse sweat fainting one by one Alas unconscious their fate met? Coroners couldn’t ‘ve clarified Described as an arctic chill bolting across the sector...

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Madame Dollene was Rubenesque wearing too much rouge her hat was oversized, overstuffed, over plumed on anyone else, it would have looked outrageous. The orange red feather perfectly matched her dress Kuddos to her hat maker and her dressmaker. She was the ultimate madame, Looking every bit the part. I was glad I was in Paris To see her, if nothing else I was fascinated...

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Madame Mystic Moo is a cosmos Queen We know her to be kind, she is rarely mean. She shows us the way with her crystal ball. A true humanitarian, compassionate, a real doll. Why are cows so much kinder than people? A child asks. He is wearing a school uniform and a Covid-19 mask. Madame Mystic Moo is a natural human-being-wanna-be. She...

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Madame Sunflower was on a roll in the very best way She had a squishy ball and she was ready to play I saw her coming and gave her a great big “hey! hey!” Hoping she would have time to stop by on her way. She is sassy and funny, and one of my best friends too. Upbeat and positive,...

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Old maid of the court was treated like a clown I should get paid for it, she said up and down. If I were you a lady said, a minstrel I would be So she became a minstrel at the age of forty-three She played songs and ditties that were sassy and fun The best fool in our kingdom said...

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The bric-a-brac shop waits on Rue Nationale. In a sleepy French town. It opens at ten, And closes at one, Till three. Then on till seven in the evening. Madame opens the shutters Before going to feed her little dog, Hettie. Hettie's toenails clip clop on the ceramic tiles. Madame feeds her green beans and tuna from a tin. Hettie barks. Madame sits at her counter And...

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Madame LaBeaux, she had no heart the center was the darkest part her heart was, you see, the size of a pea now she is just the Devil’s tart...

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Mystic madame had an ethereal ambiance of her own. We visited her rarely, for she was not often home. Her house had an eerie quality, a personality of its own. Apparitions were afoot, even when no human was home....

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She was often better but never good Her virtue tainted misunderstood Her nights a mystery each day in shame The rumors spreading each one to blame The men who knew her that man who left Impassioned bookends of time bereft She was often better yet often worse Each day repeating —tomorrow’s curse (Dreamsleep: May, 2023)...

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Queen madame praying mantis dressed beautifully after she eats her mates' heads off dutifully. some have claimed that she acts snootily. But I really like my queen who gasses out quite tootily....

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In her estate in the hills lives prim Madame Chic Who’s chauffeured way down into town every week She tells the homeless to wash Oh, you’ll never be posh! You should bathe everyday like my poodle Monique! 5/9/23...

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One little sidestep off the beaten track, Is a colorful garden of dazzling shades, With blood red geraniums of scintillating hue Interspersed by those of white and baby pink, Where beauty sings mysteriously, Reigning in every theme, a place of bliss Where silence speaks for itself, Where bees are the only intruders, I suppose. A place to feast the eyes...

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Madame Bovidier makes no excuses for her misbehaviors. her misdeeds are infamous; royalty speaks of her in astounded tones. is she a relative? An off-blanket cousin? Or character of means unknown? no one remembers when she first appeared or where she derived from. her confidence level marches around rooms in steel toed marching boots. she has the attitude of a...

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Magazine Madame measures mammoth mackerels Manipulating measurements, marking misguided memos Momentous mistakes moves and muffles meager mackerels Manufactured mutilated memo mystifies many, milking money Magazine magistrate Marine Morey measures mackerels Making meticulous memories, mimicking Magazine Madame...

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Awake hair hairstyles... appropriate clothes modeled... Offered mouth, painted... hidden mistakes, Clear Skin... lively gestures, rehearsed lines... So she goes, clearing paths, she goes to the market... Madame or courtesan... Executive or executor...!?...

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