Short Matron Poems
Short Matron Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Matron by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Matron by length and keyword.
I can still see her
dancing in shadows
but her light
beautifully lingers
as she wanes
and becomes dark
for a brief time
before growing
and being
whole again.
Mariachi miracle the play inside my head
Find another pinnacle by writing words instead
Acting only joyful makes a wreck my wicked matron
Just following the orders of my most persistent patron
Robed in the garments of alabaster hem, was she the matron of ethereal divinity; the sovereign culmination of a hallowed hand, caging my only begotten heart, was it unbeknownst to she, my beloved bearer of me. "
Alfredo Gonzales (C)
"family shall value the matron of the home; exalt her great deeds"
October 22, 2019
Proverbs 31:28 King James Version
28. Her children arise up, and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praiseth her.
Great Goddess
In fertile essence you were shaped
Upon your head
ambiguous braids were draped;
Breasts as mountains
Belly the great giver of life
Monthly cycle an ocher fountain
Created from ancestral strife
Venus of Willendorf
30,000 year old
Archetype Matron
of Mother Earth
Corpulent bestower
Of genesis and birth.
Some say One is the loneliest number,
but Outside comes a summer thunder
and an Otherworldly holiness
arrives to keep her company
with rain playing a timpani
On the roof Of her humble cottage
Of solitude in her matron Old-age.
God is Omega,
the Oxygen we breathe,
the One life we live
Only ever alone, yet not.
Here lies Sir Sidney C. Hall
Bald as a baby caused he mowed it
Knighted by the asylum matron, “The Mad Poet”
Considered by many as being funny
To the ladies his lyrics were milk and honey
Here lies Sir Sidney C. Hall
Loved by women for been well hung, not small
And as this may sound profound
By weight of them he was buried at a 45 degree angle in the ground
Oh, Goddess moon, Selene, sister to the sun
raven haired matron of celestial star light,
reign in your chariot's twin dragons be as one.
Rise refreshed reborn from Oceanus's delight.
Gift the heavens with your ever changing sheen.
Wash the seaside fresh and make our bodies gleam.
For love is always with you, as mankind basks
in your star filled bounty, your heavenly mask.
The strangest act by a loved patron:
Inviting police and his baton
Over missing drinks in a carton
Reported stolen by a matron.
Now, dragging down club Electron.
She shall change her name to Neutron
Or, still nice and as sweet proton;
She might be sued if it's "Citreon".
But this is lesson for Miriam,
Who would into a cellar ram:
Loved for being a workaholic
Disliked for being Alcoholic.
Hera precious, gorgeous queen of splendor,
of mighty Ares,and Enyo,the mother,
to thee I write my gratitude and thanks
for all thy blessings showered upon my head.
Thine is the pomegranate and the diadem,
with which you rule all worlds and human lands,
with magnanimous mercy and charity.
of rainbow colors dressed divine thou art,
the sunny smiling matron of the arts,
Thou,queen, who favorest the pure of heart.
Where is my steed the king asked his wife
She kind of knew but she valued her life
She lied a bit guiding him to an unsuspecting patron
Steed joined her at court, dressed as a pretty matron.
Steed was tired of skirmishes, battles and war.
He said “I am getting older, and my body is sore.”
Steed had always protected queen’s husband, the king.
Queen gave him apples, sugar, and a break that entire spring.
Her, an abstract art
Whom he finds difficult to understand
Truly inaugurated by Almighty's heart
Her, an expensive brand
Her aura enlightens
The dim & dead
Morning brightens
As she communicates eye to eye & head to head
He gets jitter while confronting her slaughtering smile
Barely manages to talk
Since her only job is to send him exile
Yet above all is her seductive cat walk
His highness
Take heed of his shyness
Windows reflects the world outside
Inside, the soul remains concealed.
A ticking clock, a relentless reminder
Of moments passing, unreclaimed.
A diner, a stage for silent dramas
Obsoletion fades stains of trauma.
Each matron, an enigma, unnamed
In the quiet corner, an empty stool...
A cook, a keep, a bartender secretly weeps
polishes glasses, pushing the dregs away.
Waiting for a story untold but not forgotten.
Grumpy phone call
So I grumpily answered the phone and the Matron type she said
“you could be a bit nicer to me”,
so I said “how much nicer would you like me to be”?
She said “oh that's better “
So I said “ to slip between your creamy thighs, to nuzzle at your breast, to feel your contented sighs, as your arms do me caress, the best of all the natural highs, with you I'm surely blest!
She hung up the phone...UNIMPRESSED.
Don Johnson