Short Martinis Poems
Short Martinis Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Martinis by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Martinis by length and keyword.
“all a man really wants, is a girl who looks good in a bikini”
(Jack Freestone)
or a fully clad one ~ he finds becoming after ten martinis
Mister Donald J. Trump went on a cruise
Got lathered up on martinis and booze --
In glided Stormy
Trump was so horny --
For his latest 'position,' watch the news!
Parasol
Doll like
So perky and pretty
Original middle French word
Fancier than a simple umbrella
Small colorful ones in glasses
Make martinis sparkle
Italian word
Parasole
pink lips, golden hips,
this beauty makes me power trip.
i am aphrodite at the after party
sipping golden apple martinis by the pool.
chosen by troy, i am the fairest of them all.
even your best friend called me a goddess.
One-Hour Fishing Awe
She was only twelve.
She believed in elves.
And fishing genies,
Which wore bikinis.
Some drank martinis.
Early one fall,
She got a call.
Luck did befall.
Wonder enthralled.
Her granddad
That wore plaid.
Made her glad.
At sea…
Fifty-three
Caught.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 24, 2010
Snowman was invited to a brand-new spa
Who wants to go? He said, not me, not me
He was dragged in there by his cousin Maw
And promptly found a goblet that was quite comfy
It once held martinis, the spa owner said
It was designed by a snowman named Devil Day
You can get cozy and relax, as if it is your bed
Snowman liked it so much, he was there the next day
No matter you’re not in the phone book
and you pay with cash, not checks;
no matter if you dress in the faded
worn-out rags that were all she left;
no matter if you wrap yourself in cobwebs
and drive a three-wheeled wreck;
no matter if you give up your martinis
and survive on chicken necks,
it matters not. She’ll always have
your number – your carnivorous ex.
dry….my skin, the third week of winter
the desert, on a clear day
dry….your lips, after a thousand kisses
my pockets, while I stood in the rain
dry….your heart, after we made love
that roast, I cooked one Sunday
dry….my eyes, the day you left
the garden, where nothing grows
dry….my bones, without your flesh
the martinis, we made together
dry….the humour, we found in our failure
the vessel, that held our souls
I'd love to drive
A DB5
Be slim and nimble
Have a 'Q' issued thimble
Own a PPK
Called Walter some day
Raise an eyebrow at death
No intake of breath
Be attractive to women
Wear tight speedos to swim in
Have the Maldives as back-up
Let the Amex card rack-up
Pout on photos when taken
Rather martinis were shaken
It's a fantasy game
As I just stay the same
Not a credible hero
Only seven more than zero