Short Nightgowns Poems
Short Nightgowns Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Nightgowns by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Nightgowns by length and keyword.
She sleeps late. She
Hates school. She
Wears nightgowns. She
Stares at the stars. She
Laughs like She
Loves life. She
Flies home. She'll
Grow up soon.
used to wear heels
dressing with fancy jewelry
not any more
all about comfort
pajamas and nightgowns
barefooted too
retirement
unhurried and unstressed
free to be me
She’s a short-spoken woman he told all.
She’s short-legged? I asked, not at all tall?
Short-sighted? Another yelled from a wall.
She’s a shortstop? My uncle yelled from a stall.
She wears shortie nightgowns was the next call.
About to see a short temper on the man with the doll.
Your words,
your gestures,
your thoughts ...
Your cold winter clothes,
your summer nightgowns,
your impressive figure ... all you,
still lives in me ...
Your memories live
with me...
You are in me
as unfinished love,
sleepy still love ... but in me
not a lost love ...
Soft t-shirts, warm flannels, easy to step into
Cozy fleece, light cotton, stretchy elastic waistbands
Comfy nightgowns, flowered pajamas, and a mumu
Retirement encourages a new way to dress
Comfort over class, coziness over chic
Fashion is over the hill now
I live in the country
The only ones who see me are my husband and my dogs
Anywhere. Evening rain.
Snakes cross the road,
that is no longer an obvious place.
It cracks like old toffee.
Lost souls in nightgowns and slippers
foam behind wire.
A dark tide bids,
then waits for the gallery of slight heads,
a row of serious blue eyes,
devoid of doubt.
A world of small signs.
Look at the loovly garden!
Narry a thorn there scratches.
Look at the loovly birds!
A peeping chick soon hatches.
Look at the loovly house!
Such loovly locks and latches.
A loovly family inside.
In nightgowns lacking patches!
Each retires to loovly beds.
As I light loovly matches!
Come morning see the loovly dead.
Reposed upon the ashes!
"Loovly House" was in FANTASY & TERROR 4, 1984.
the sunspots ensconced
behind howdy-do curtains
a cockcrow in lace
white watering can french blue
white sprouts of ivy deep green
unhackneyed eggs bright brown
the pale yellow sun flickers snow
and no one wears silk nightgowns
as knees fall, and wrinkles like weeds
are read on the backside of palms
that hurry the yolks and sizzle
the bacon, pour coffee into old cups
one for the geezer who grumps
but puckers up for his buttercup