Short Morgan Poems
Short Morgan Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Morgan by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Morgan by length and keyword.
Raindrops,
iridescent,
light and pure as petals
echo sweet, seraphic music
tranquil...
By Morgan Mise
Written January 22, 2013
There once was a cat named Mr. Morgan
Who sipped his share of Kentucky bourbon
Sired ninety-five kittens
Said he's not forbidden
From abusing his sexual organ
Morning, is when she came to us
On her mother's birthday, surprise!
Resting in her tired arms
Gazing eyes and gentle sighs
Arriving with the rising sun
Now she has her name
There once was a man named Little Jack Little.
Who sure could play a mean little fiddle,
He played with big Bix Morgan,
Who pounded his upright organ,
While eating pancakes from the griddle.
Twelve
townsmen,
just and true-
common law on
view
The Jury by John Morgan
Perhaps Aylesbury's most famous painting
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Jury_by_John_Morgan.jpg
A pale grey sky
lush green forest
the rain falls soft and fast
pattering on leaves and rocks
birdsong echoes sweetly
the air is cool and light
peaceful, timeless
sanctuary
February 1, 2013
By Morgan Mise
S-cribe
A-dvances
M-use
A-bout
N-oble
T-opic
H-aving
A-wesome
M-essage
O-f
R-emarkable
G-reetings
A-nd
N-ote
Topic: Birthday of Poetess Samantha Morgan (May 29)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
S-ilent
A-ilment's
M-ysterious
A-ttack
N-otoriously
T-hreatens
H-umans
A-s
M-easures
O-f
R-ight
G-uidelines
A-bate
N-astiness
Topic: Birthday of poetess Samantha Morgan (May 29)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Slowly my world shatters
Unravelling all around me
Inside my heart is
Cold, empty, broken
I have fallen apart completely
Drowning in the waves of sorrow
Everything I once was is swept away
By Morgan Mise
Written November 13, 2012
Roy cries
William lies
As Morgan sighs
My marriage dies
Too late to move on
To soon to turn back
Keep looking & you
Will find all our cracks.
Cracks in our floors,
Cracks in the walls,
Keep looking around
And you will find more.
Form:
GARRETT A. MORGAN
GARRETT A. MORGAN birth outside Paris, Kentucky
Inventor of Smoke hood model day respirator
Hair straitening combs, stop lights
Things for sewing machines
Yes! Mr. Morgan invented that
2/12/18
by James Edward Lee Sr.
Morty’s feet were as graceful as a gawky giraffe on ice.
He asked Morgan McMillon to the dance, not one time, but thrice.
She could not refuse him a fourth time, for it would not seem nice.
They are married now and have sixteen children, so she’s paid the price.
MORGAN WITH TULIPS
toothy and yellow.
Sun-petals next to
my grandson, who
at eleven chuckles
at the mere two pictures
under the title.
Seasonal surmise, of
one planting, upending soil -
captured with one grand sun
and a pearly white smile.
2/23/2020
She drifted on black starlit glass
beneath the full moon bright
captivated by the beauty of
the tranquil, lovely light
floating on the gentle waves
the stars kissed her goodnight
and rocked into her deepest dreams
she floated out of sight
By Morgan Mise
Written January 6, 2013
Human guts oozes out
Because of a vampire’s big mouth
Tearing the stomach wide open
No tormenting words were spoken
The walking dead feeds on its bloody organ
It was the gushy blood of j.p morgan
Whose eyes were plucked and smashed
His inside guts were also slashed
10-27-2020
Happy birthday Granny
Spank me on the fanny
I've been a bad girl
Since you've left this world
Roy is older now
He helps wrinkle my brow
Morgan is over three
He sits on my knee
William is nearly nine
We're waiting for him to shine
But until then
I think he'll turn out fine.
Form:
Waves crashing
Against the shore
Hear the power
Hear the roar
Wind blowing
Birds take flight
Stars twinkle
in the dead of night
Feel the sand
Beneath your toes
Enter a reality
No one else knows
Waves crashing
Against the shore
Can you feel the power?
Can you hear the roar?
The 'chase' can be a hunt
though I hope it's not for deer
I'd rather they chase criminals
and put an end to fear
Then there's 'Chase Bank of Manhattan,'
named after J.P. Morgan, I believe
A gent oft chased by 'gold-diggers'
for whom his wallet was a mesh-less sieve
Cold marble stone erected in rows
That and my memories is all I have left of your prescence.
Memory recalls the good times and funny man you could be.
Violent temper you knew to walk it off.
(Sung)I L-O-V-E somebody. My grandbaby of all the grandbabies,
Tootsie girl!
For Ninow! See you on the other side!
“You need a disposable organ
Said his glum doctor Guten Morgan
"I need meditative piss"
"I hate oil and amber-grease"
"You can use cheese into the bargain"
On unbearably pleasant days
she beckons the ferryman
to taxi her to the
dark places of her past
to stock up on bitterness,
envy, rancor
a delusional cocktail for the
attention-starved addict
with the trademark, fatalistic,
false sense of power.
Self-respect makes a break for it
while she coddles demons in her sleep.
Form:
There is no…
African American history,
Native American history,
Irish American history,
Italian American history,
German American history,
Chinese American history,
Hispanic American history,
or White American history
There is only American History
—and Morgan Freeman got it right!
(Grantham New Hampshire-February, 2017)
Carousel inn on highest peak,
Round and round they quickly spin,
Beacon invites as we speak,
Carousel inn.
Tent for a carousal din,
Memories lost they seek,
Floating feets under Natures basin,
Festive aura sound and reek.
Flying with the spinning wind,
Emotions fast and thick,
Carousel inn.
by Danesh Morgan
on 3th August 2013
Can we capture time
in a crystal hour glass
because these precious moments
all seem to quickly pass
Can we touch the stars
before they fade away
keep them in a little box
and hide them from the day
Can we remain here sleeping
and hold on to these dreams
so they won't be forgotten and
unravel at the seams?
By Morgan Mise
Written December 5, 2012
Fifteen-two hands high, half a ton
of black horse – she bore me
through dry arroyos and over alfalfa fields
in bloom. But how could I carry her
to college? There’s no place in a dorm-room
for a Morgan-Quarter mare.
I dropped her – reins and all – into
the hands of a stranger.
Forty-eight years later, I find
I’m still carrying her
in my mind.