Sally Poems | Examples

sewing something Sally

sewing something Sally is on the trail of a pin
she saw it yesterday, and can match it with its twin
slides her tape measure out of the way
and yells hip hip hip hip hip hooray

is this how I’ll act if I take up sewing? I wonder.
Sewing something Sally is always full of blunder.
She speaks of pin cushions, zippers, buttons and such.
I am not sure I would like this hobby very much.

Sally

I choose to call her Sally,
because she holds a place
no one else can reach.

There’s something about her smile
Yet I can only call it perfect.

And in her eyes,
a spark lives,
the kind that ignites fire,
the kind you can’t look away from.

And somehow,
just being near her
feels like coming home.

ouija board sally

ouija board sally
setting spiritual guidelines
shes séance savvy

soft black cloth
small silver bell and candle
silent visitors

they ask their questions
the pointer spells out a name
deception or truth

dorothy Sally Pies

Dorothy Sally loved her pie, kept it for herself
Had cherry, gooseberry and cherry on a shelf
In her freezer she had hidden key lime and pecan
You won’t get a piece though she has six strawberry chiffon
Dorothy Sally does not share her sweet pies ever
Her brother sneaks them out, he is extremely clever

SALLY THE RECYCLER

In local park you’ll see her foraging.
In every litter bin she digs deep down
To see what precious prize there hides away.
With ginger overcoat and auburn hair
She is the cunning urban fox at work,
Scattering and leaving rubbish here and there. 
She has her large shopping trolley in tow
To collect and transport her daily takings. 

All of that nasty plastic she rejects
And filthy dog pooh bags she flings afar.
But all those drinks cans have real value
As she can sell them for some ready cash.
Part eaten pizzas pieces she unearths
And provide her with a welcome working snack.

Recycling other’s trash is Sally’s game.
And lots of free pickings she takes each day.
It’s how she lives; she feels no shame.
In local park you’ll see her foraging.

Sally Scarlet

red letters on a desk with dust,
her birthday card
written perfecta —
water drop on paper;

‘to the leaf
i know will fall
but not too far,
please not too far’

flew in the breeze
leaf crumbled
like a fall of autumn —
first freeze.

killed everything
within me;
a zombie queen
of a necropolis of misery.

her plot is my home
under this blanket of grass,
with a petals kiss
sleeps a life.

the tree
instead
here with me
a butterfly flaps away.

Sally Has A Few Blemishes But That Doesn't Stop Her

Still Holding My Own Poetry Contest
Margarita Lillico's



Sally's basin is broken and shattered
But her plumbing works is all that mattered
It was all a one-night sink
Tap in and out in a blink
Her men took finding joy in what splattered

bossy Sally

Bossy Sally knew what we all should do
gave advice to each and all
we who knew her well ignored it
her life was an enormous shambles; a mess

Doormat Sally, from THE WOMAN WHO COULD EAT WOOD

Doormat Sally
   


Doormat Sally cried the moment she
discovered that she was allergic 
to shoe wipe and cat pee.

The Sad Saga of Sally Sock

I'm tired of life with Smelly Sid -
that sock just stinks of sweaty feet,
no matter what they wash him in
(in winter's bad, but summer heat...)
I rolled out from the washing pile
and got away from Sid, but then
some boxers joined me - just my luck -
and now I'm stuck with Skid-mark Sven.

Sally Sue's Thick Hair

Sally Sue was a big-haired gal from Kalamazoo
She lived in a forest of green with tiny slivers of blue.
Her thick hair was her nemesis, her big boo-hoo
She was not any kind of hairdresser, little Sally Sue.

She meditated in the forest when a large black crow
Swooped down into her hair, and nested way below.
Right next to his rat and his family of twenty-seven.
Maybe I should shave it off, said her mother Heaven.

Sally Jo

A drab forty something,
mother of six snotty noses,
tie dyed shirt two sizes too small.
Nipples poking through the thin cloth.

Fuzzy pink slippers and yoga pants,
ass like the surface of the moon,
with mountains and craters well defined.
Dirt blond hair with three-inch black roots.

Lights the joint stuck between caked lips,
blows smoke into the space,
separating her from reality.
Out of breath she waddles to the bed. 

When he tells of the goddess,
that took his immaturity,
there’s one thing he never mentions.
The twenty he left on the table.

A Place To Be

A Place to
 Be
		I hope that Sally is where
		there are cats that curl
		in sunspots on a floor
		and readers who peruse
		novels slowly from cover
		to cover through long
		Sunday afternoons.
		Or it could be Monday
		when the washing is done
		and the red beans are steeping.
		I would make my way there
		to make the memory mine
		with a nice bottle of wine.

Trying To Scare Sally Sue

Sally Sue did not take guff off of anybody
This included monsters
Nightmare monster had no idea about this.
Thinking he was all big and bad and would terrify her.
She was only four and they are easy to frighten.
He made himself big
His shadow was enormous
His voice was deep and dangerous-sounding.
Sally Sue laughed at his efforts.
“You do not scare me,” she told him.
He could not believe she faced him down with a snarl.
Not understanding that she has six older brothers.

Sally In the Wood

long ago 'twas colonel brownes' folly
to build a tower in a wood
just for employment and to be jolly
had he known, surely he never would

the folly still stands with no penitence
yet gypsy girl Sally was locked in there
imprisoned without sustinence
left to die without any care

no birds nest now in this woodland
flying by with no song it seems
many see Sally's ghost first hand
and hear her piercing screams

a road winds through this wood now
the darkness chills you to the bone
eight fatal car crashes, not known how
but it is said Sally is no longer alone

UP TO 20 LINES Poetry Contest
Sotto Poet
APRIL 28, 2023

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