Short Belle Of The Ball Poems
Short Belle Of The Ball Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Belle Of The Ball by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Belle Of The Ball by length and keyword.
The Belle of the Ball is the best
The one who stands out from the rest
Her face - she won't mind it
Because she's behind it
And males only look at her chest!
A flamingo asked a fer-de-lance
To be his date to a high school dance.
"Oh, you don't want to go with me.
I've neither arms nor legs, you see."
"No problem there", flamingo said,
"You can still play the perfect role.
We'll enter the limbo contest,
And you can be the pole!"
A PLEASURE OR NOT?
As he approached her across the hall,
She felt she must be the belle of the ball.
He was handsome and watching him dance,
She never dreamed she would have a chance.
And as it turned out, she was right.
He marched straight past her into the night.
Heart full filled with sweet
belle of the ball
dish in the sink
amongst the china
peach of the bowl
embraceable
sweet nectar luster divine
simply tart
brisk REVELANT
for children young at
-heart-
12/13/2023
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
At one time she was the belle of the ball
Those days are over
Way over
Most of her classmates are gone
She has buried four husbands
She tries to be sophisticated
Puts on airs
Considers us her servants
She has lost her fortunes
All five of them
She does not remember many things
We working for free now
Most of us do not mind
She was truly generous when she did have money
When crossing the road
or walking the sands
come rain or shine
we'd hold hands
less a habit more by design
I'd gently enfold yours in mine
and while sitting on the sofa
always held you tight
wrapped my arms around you
as we kissed goodnight
then dancing to the music
you were the Belle of the ball
it looks to me we seem to be
in a holding pattern after all
Once Clara arrived, and she beamed with pride -
Applause, after all they were horrified…
In Autumn, a fall;
The Belle of the ball;
The dance of her life, where she could have died.
To cry is a shame and to laugh is lame.
For once down the stairs (do you know this dame?)
She stumbled a waltz…
Could you get her salts?
She’d dance with the stars and a solid frame.
Eternal waves, cascade for days
Sun dried and free, they frame her face
Twirls and spins, cinnamon skin
Sky blue eyes, magnetic grin
To the T, my mini me
But more than I could hope to be
Angelic, sweet, glitter tipped feet
If I’m a song, she’s my beat
She shows me grace, that feels misplaced
In my heart, she fills, a broken space
The belle of the ball, though, still small
My Molly Lori, she has it all
Azalea! Belle of the ball
Elegant stylish grace,
Flowing swirls,
Shades of pink satin
Air of sophistication,
Awakening imaginations
Love and nature,
Played a part,
Warm breezes swayed,
Different dream worlds,
Dancing emotions waltzed,
Romance bloomed,
Midnight hopes disappeared,
Twelve o’clock struck,
Cinderella!
A fairy tale,
But for Azalea,
She remains
Always and forever,
A very beautiful flower.
Wendy Jae
Hear me.
My words,
with ink tell the tale
of a lady and her lord.
See me.
My pen,
miming their accord.
The laughter; soundlessly
R i n g i n g
in your ears.
The merry heartbreak
spilling golden champagne;
T e a r s.
Cries of passion
dancing across the floor
chandeliered to the moment
within our first embrace.
The horses depart, printing across my floor.
They carry him from me.
Belle of the ball draped on a chair
I startle from my dream.
CINDERELLA GOLDENROD
The June garden is overflowing with summer colour.
The dresses are gorgeous. The Prince is dazzled.
In the corner, Cinderella in drab green looks sad;
But the clock ticks. In August, the Prince of the Sky
Will see her clusters of emberglowing yellow flowers.
She’ll be the belle of the ball.
………………………………………………………………………………………
Note. All gardeners love the bright, late showing of Goldenrod, after the other flowers have gone.