Short Assortment Poems
Short Assortment Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Assortment by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Assortment by length and keyword.
Her lips taste like
a revolving assortment of fruits
each one sweeter than the next
To kiss her is to fall away
into a land of wonder
where love is always present
She collected
his every phrase
like an assortment
of antiques.
She realized
she could also
sort them by date.
2/21/2021
Credit: Someone You Love Is Gone by Gurjinder Basran, Page 21
sunset explosions
wandering butterfly swarms
windblown rose petals
bird populations
animals of many kinds
autumn leaves swirling
prestorm dark gray clouds
the world assortment of fruits
bouyant rainbow skies
This man does weird things to his heart’s content,
wears odd sock pair, thinks it’s not indecent.
Likes to live life of contrast,
in assortment he has trust,
hopes mismatched socks become a style statement.
Birds chirp within the vast assortment of trees
The lake shivers with each cool breeze
Butterflies are fluttering past
Fishing poles are decorating the Kelly Green grass
The fishermen dance with gleam
As they fling Blue Gill Catfish and Bass from the sea
Toothpaste
soap
candles
Matches
three dimes
small yellow rubber ducky
Dog treats
diet pills
red, white and blue buttons,
assortment of threads
rickrack
scotch tape
needles
missing bracelet
pincushion
measuring tape
Nails
stickers
temporary tattoos
Sewing box gone wild
Calamity in the cupboard.
Little tornado in the hall.
A lava lamp under my bed
Enormous flames now, big and tall.
I understand the need to crawl,
To get low, and to not scream and bawl
But the fire is scaring me in an assortment of ways,
So I am doing all of the things wrong, and I mean all….
Give me some mustard and collard greens.
Bring along some rice and beans.
I'll have some chicken good enough for finger licking.
Those barbecued ribs are rib sticking.
If you want to see me open my eyes,
serve me any assortment of pies.
This is the food I extol.
This kind of food is good for the soul.
At a flea market
Assortment of items
Spread our to be sold
From food to clothing
Jewellery and more
One vendor had
A variety
Of birdhouses
In different styles
One really stood out
It was so different
Four birdhouse on
a pole
I call them condo's
Home for the birds
They are lucky birds
They live rent free
I saw a child
He seemed sober and mild.
An assortment of vegetables was before him.
The look of the cat near him seemed grim.
The child was not cooking.
Nor the green vegetables he was eating.
Was this a pose for a photo?
Was it just a fun motto?
Whatever it might be, he looked cute.
With a traditional chef's suit…
I wonder what she dreamed when
She walked barefoot over cobblestone streets
In 1864.
Did she fancy where her future would take her
What her descendants would be?
Would they remember their veteran,
Her husband from the Civil War.
As crows perched on his wooden cross?
She dreamed of an assortment of children;
Maybe she even dreamed of me.
No, you cannot turn back time,
although you may want to;
When a poet writes a new rhyme
words capture just how those days flew;
Maybe that’s the magic of love;
An assortment of building blocks,
there is nothing to dispose of;
The past plays through an old jukebox;
Revisiting moments dug up
fitting your life in a puzzle;
Spilled art from a very full cup,
sometimes hell but so beautiful.
Joulupoyta
Feast fit for a king on a day the king was born
17 Nov 2015
Joulupöytä (translated "Yule table") is the name of the traditional assortment of foods served at Christmas in Finland, similar to the Swedish smörgåsbord. It contains many different dishes, most of them typical for the season. The main dish is usually a large Christmas ham, which is eaten with mustard or bread along with the other dishes
See the house
In the country
Among the silent hills
And flower fields
Where green grass waves
Under blue sky
Long abandoned
Or is it
Take a closer look
And see
The new occupants
A fox slips out the back door
See her den in the kitchen
A field mouse now calls
The bedroom home
Bats sleep in the attic
An assortment of insects
Await those who seek
Though abandoned
And forgotten by man
This house is now cherished
By the wild
Whoever came up with the bagel
was a right-smart clever fellow
His brainstorm surely ranks up there
with taste treats like pudding and jello
For I'd never put toppings on pudding
like lox, tomatoes or cream cheese
And who would think of serving jello
with an assortment of delicacies
So, a doff of the cap and three cheers
for that purely anonymous soul
the centerpiece of whose discovery
was quite an ace in the hole
by Mark Miller 12/30/2017
Traveler starlight dusts
Our color emotion departed
Ever within never dissident
Below sordid toss assortment
Blooms circuit substance
Our obsessive privy throws
Living symptom circular gaze
Before myopic oceans deep gray
Grasping worlds structure foray
By shipwrecked days estrange
In homes left untouched the many
For whom history appoints
The fill of sentry tales
Holds purpose tenants void
A basket full of apples,
an assortment of flavor.
Wide plethora to pick from,
maybe that is the problem.
This is far too much to ask,
a basket full of apples.
By nature not gluttonous,
decisions hard decisions.
Tart, candied, a bit of both.
Which bite will truly fill me?
A basket full of apples,
I only want to eat one.
Scent rolling off of the peel,
the spicy feel of autumn.
Cinnamon hot is my sweet,
a basket full of apples.
Life Didn’t Exist Without Nicks
Written: by Miracle Man
8/19/2017
Life’s been loaded with a myriad of glitches,
I’m considering the use of the moniker scar.
Twenty times in life I’ve experienced stitches,
So I’ll never be mistaken for some film star.
If fewer than three sutures they don’t count,
Or the broken bones and assortment of flays.
It began at fourteen and with age would mount,
I’m just an old dog that had a few rough days.
All of the joys
Of chocolate…
Delightful pleasure
of tiny secretions
that excites taste.
Releasing mounds of
Milky darkness…
An assortment of
Overindulgence,
A savory variety of
Irresistible explosions
And heavenly bliss…
Layers of richness
That taunts sensors to
Recall succulent memories
Of indelible guilt,
An insatiable desire
To spawn a gluttonous
Compromise…
Hers is Godiva,
Deep chocolaty inner dream-
Deliciously black coated
Vanilla cream...
A Political Truth
or
Term Limits Will Never Happen
Tom’s Opinion
July 20, 2020
This November, from a vast assortment of people,
we’ll choose those whom we think best qualify.
Once in office we’re then viewed as mere Sheeple,
and we’ll view them as just another gadfly.
Many will become “all hat and no cattle”,
and master the art “of strutting sitting down”.
Then after fighting their last political battle,
they get a huge pension for making us frown.