Short Bathrobe Poems

Short Bathrobe Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bathrobe by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bathrobe by length and keyword.


Premium Member Our Birdbath

When birds take a bath in your birdbath Are they self-conscious about nudity and their overweight flab They could put on a bathrobe But no arms for the armholes They turn on our faucet and create a big splash
Form: Limerick


Premium Member - A Fake Santa Claus -


Santa Claus so creepy and weird
Neon pink bathrobe, mask cracked and yellowed beard
On his left arm my dad`s clock, so strange - we feared
Mom just smile and laugh, dad in the bathroom - afterwards he reappeared






22.11.2015
- Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Bubbles

Bubbles floating in the air 
Warm bath water have no care 
Bathrobe strewn down on the floor
Here let me, I'll close the door
Lavender bathbomb lathers nice 
Scent of springtime, don't think twice
I'll bring you more champagne on ice
Then light your clove to add some spice
Form: Rhyme

Blind Faith

I look for a sign.
If I could see His footprints, 
or some honest to God relics, 
like a lock of His hair
or the ring He wore.
If the LaBrae Tar pit were filled 
with haloes and harps
perhaps, 
I could believe.
If there was a place like Graceland 
where I could
touch His bathrobe and bedroom slippers,
Then,
my faith 
wouldn’t have to be 
so blind.
© Joan Pond  Create an image from this poem.

Nosy Neighbor

She runs down the street in her bathrobe and curlers,
With the big flower prints peering in the neighbors windows,
She has nothing else better to do than to get in others business,
Acting like she owns the block, the other neighbors can't stand this,
If a dog barks she's calling the cops,
She's also knocking on your door reminding you to mow your lawn,
I thank her, smile politely, and slam the door,
I hope she got the hint this time, Lord.


Early Morning Musings

Night fades,
Day breaks;
Shattered pieces of Crescent Moon
fall on grass
in glittering specks.

The Sun yawns and stretches;
Too early to wake up,
I wake up.

Dawning my
fuzzy pink bathrobe
to greet the
breaking Night
and
sobering of the Sun,
I am greeted,
in turn,
by a herald of the news.

Upon a steel horse,
he glances at me,
once,
twice,
and hurls a chunk of knowledge at me.

Knowledge is power, and power hurts.
I remind myself to get a dog.
© Mason Land  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

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