Short Brew Poems
Short Brew Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Brew by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Brew by length and keyword.
crisp, refreshing
butterscotch
cold cream
melts in mouth
good to the last drop
even the ice
tastes like butterscotch
I sometimes think
The only way out is suicide
But as you drink yourself to death
I only have time to bide
***
baloney bacon beans and barley
bittersweet bubbly bulbous brew
buttery broiled bass and bluegill
boasting a beggar’s bountiful stew
hear friend this tale of woe
over brewing made it so
bitter steeped each sip
teatimed sinking ship
taste profile very low.
A man made some witches brew
Then sold it as Barker’s stew
The customers face turns
Into blisters and burns
As their noses grew and grew
in hills where buffaloes roam
i brew coffee and much foam
excess grounds water cold
bitter stale tastes too bold
grateful when my wife gets home.
First things first, I don my attire
Then to the kitchen, nothing prior
Well maybe a pee
Make sure I'm empty
Then down my liquid happiness applier
The witches were making their brew
Until they heard a voice shout, you who
It was a stranger lost
Searching for a street name cost
But ends up in the brew as stew
First things first, I don my attire
Then go to the kitchen, nothing prior
Well maybe to pee
Make sure I'm empty
Then down my liquid happiness applier
Be like poet Poe and forget the T
When one is composing their poetry
Then when you are through
Go make a fine brew
Wallow ‘n’ swallow in glorious tea.
Every Witch on Halloween night
Prepares a witches brew
She has a remedy
If you get the flu
A cup of tea
With lemon
A bit of honey
And a shot of Whiskey
A Special Witches Brew
Coffee black and true
Such a stirring brew
Feelings of vigor and vim
Full up to the brim
It sets the heart racing
Tends to keep you pacing
But what would we do
Without this amazing brew.
Form:
What would we do without our morning brew
It's our salvation when waking between me and you
Tea doesn't cut it
Orange juice unsuited
Only that good old fashioned brew will surely do
There once was a friend of mine,
Who was famed for making wine.
Her visits were great,
As she brought a crate -
But I lost a week each time.
For Francine's Bottle of Wine contest, written 17th June
Take a sip of the brew
Top it off with lemon
Taste flavors mint or green
Try other flavors too
Tea party in Boston
Threw tons of tea away
To protest taxation
4-26-2021
Pleiades T Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Coffee? Coffee?
Where could you be?
Every morning you are here with me.
Waking me up with warm smells
I surely can't remember where i put
You down.
Coffee,Coffee
IF you can hear hurry,hurry and reappear.
copyright2008
Amanda Vaughn
your new beau is a strange brew
grandma says pushing back and forth
in the rickety rocker on her front porch
at the house that was old before she was born
and the familiar black cat sitting in a spot of sun,
meows loudly in agreement
Hey Witchy
You want hair of the dog
Tongue of frog
Eye of newt
Or an old army boot
Hey Witchy
Toil and trouble
Boil and bubble
Throw all you got
In your black pot
Hey Witchy
What's your notion
In your potion
Can I see
Is it magic or just laundry
I fashioned a brew, a magical potion
A rekindler of love, arousing emotion.
I took essence of passion, my inner fire
The beat of my heart, a cup of desire,
I mixed them together with a portion of bliss
But it's not for drinking, it awaits in a kiss.
I didn't drink the brew
because it made me twitch,
and break out in hives,
every where I itched.
She cackled real loud, a
high shrilling pitch,
and hit the broom stick
with a switch, and flew
away in the sky with out a glitch.
Must still be the season of the witch.
What a delight to get together
for our annual festive dinner
Both the Devil and Frankenstein
drinking warm blood of swine
Other guests welcomed from mummies
scarecrows ghosts goblins zombies
Count Dracula and Witch Hazel
oops ~ brew is ready for appraisal
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Buzzing, hissing, static.
Crunching up lightning under my toes.
Witches brew lit up.
Tattered.
Old rugs used up in crime scenes.
Police lights.
Power’s out, silly.
I have this illness.
Gave me senses.
Buzzing, hissing, static.
I have an illness made up of witches brew and power outages.
The daylight hid from the nighttime
like a rabbit from the fox
As the sun ran through my memory
freeing moments that were locked
With twilight came a foretelling
and its darkness swearing true
But a light still burns inside me
—from a promise left to brew
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)
It was dead on arrival,
no chance of survival,
the tiny brown mouse.
She did it again,
my cat gifting friend,
at least it's not loose in the house..
Be it mouse or shrew,
would make a potent rodent stew, but
not so appealing to me.
Stir it until blue,
and put it in a witches brew
but I won't want that recipe.
I would like a tiny drop of warlock brew.
He looks at me with fierce eyes of blue.
Are you sure you know what to do?
If the brew grabs and gets the best of you?
Irritated now, I begin to stew.
Just give me a taste, and I’ll show you.
The warlock brew puts a hole in my heart and shoe.
I am terrified and do not know what to do.