Short Broody Poems
Short Broody Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Broody by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Broody by length and keyword.
I went into the garden to feed the chook
The bird gave me a very nervous look
It knew it would have hell to pay
If she had no more eggs to lay
Archie Bunker
A good ol' boy,
Opinionated and moody,
He tended to be broody.
Edith Bunker
Was Archie's wife.
With a cheerful outlook she fought his strife.
The one bright spot in Archie's life.
ALL IN THE FAMILY
Royal Trevino
Contest Name
Birds and the bees
Good ole Clive he said to me,
Bee’s aint buzzing decently,
Mobile phones got their number,
Buzz like a bent cucumber,
broody bird said recently.
Don Johnson
Tasting on goody almondy
escape into broody
Felt moody
I'm nobody
life a parody
cared? nobody.
laughed? everybody.
I don't want tragedy
neither comedy
no people of shady,
no clings of needy,
but a buddy
who is not noddy,
a life almost steady
like somebody.
Mr. Dee, the down and out, downcast, downhearted cat
broody, moody, gloomy and in no way fat
dejected, rejected, chased off by some
oppressed, depressed, droopy and rather glum
could not trust people after he was thrown away
buoying him up now is my brilliant cat-loving Aunt Fay.
There once was an angry old man,
Who thought he had the only plan.
He was smarter than most,
And of this he would boast.
He thought of himself as just grand.
The angry old man had a wife,
Whose life he oft filled with strife.
He described her as moody,
Just stupid and broody.
She told him to go get a life.
There once was an angry old man,
Who thought he had the only plan.
He was smarter than most,
And of this he would boast.
He thought of himself as just grand.
The angry old man had a wife,
Whose life he oft filled with strife.
He described her as moody.
Just stupid and broody.
She told him to go get a life.
A white dress full
of winter cherries;
hair curled with frost.
A carried box
tied with string
and legends.
Maybe a modelled
sister,or a ghost
from a playground.
You turn to
circumnavigate
in all this road
and wonder this is
as gone as a finger of snow
in April.
The sky is hasty
with a flock of clouds,
broody, hanging -
The next day empty,
just a shape without standing,
colder.
Blackberry briar bounds the river: a curb
o’er the levee’s curve; a thorny imbroglio
under which twitters sing in broody milieu
Naught but the resilient do venture within
daunting vine bent in asperity, weathered
Little flyers fluff the brusque in a love filial
In wee caresses, stringent opens soft eyes
Silken white, touched in palest pink, winks
Sweet, sweet, they tweet, for a juicy bliss…
(8/7/2022)