Short Old Woman Poems
Short Old Woman Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Old Woman by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Old Woman by length and keyword.
The old women
sold flowers
at the promenade
“Buy a flower you can’t
smell them when you’re dead”
wise old woman…
kibitzer neighbor
a blatant staring voyeur
vicariousness
living our dream lives
peeking into our bedrooms
crazy old woman
dainty handkerchiefs
pretty embroidered flowers
too tiny to use
lavender sachet
permeating bureau drawers
old woman items
a beautiful place
decorated to market
exquisite gifts
old woman on hover round
the sound of broken china
A camphor tree trunk
catches up memories tape
tears of old woman
There once was an old woman from Madrid
Husband disapproved everything she did
Cereal's too cold
Meat's too old
One day in anger his false teeth she hid
There was an old woman called Hattie
whose hubby's name for her was fattie.
So she cooked his goose
hung him from a noose
then buried him in a cow pattie!
The old woman in the shoe scandal
who had those kids, too much to handle.
Now that they are full grown
and she is home alone,
she'll down-size to a sandal.
old woman with stick
love's wisdom smiles with wrinkles
knows all lines of love
Thoughts, fantasies, memories
Crossing legs, clenching muscles
An old washing machine
an ugly old woman named Nat
wore pants on her head for a hat
with her skirt upside down
she pranced through the town
while we asked of each other "What's THAT?"
All the old woman does is nag, nag, nag.
How do I get rid of the old windbag?
There is a bumper crop
when she goes nonstop.
For peace and quiet, is there a price tag?
There was an old woman from Dorset
Who forgot to fasten her corset
When she was in town
Her knickers also came down
To save her face
She had to race
To reach a water closet.
Bothering a tired old woman is not smart
We can easily conjure up a belch or fart
At a certain age, we can bring a truly foul smell
By the time we finish with you, you are in hell
I rummage through old memories
like an old woman rummages
through a handbag,
Searching for a reminder
of who I was before. . .
looking to find a way back
to being me without you.
When children fall down people run to help.
When an old woman falls, does anyone run?
What about a teenage girl?
What if a teenage girl falls?
Is there a cut off age?
When do we stop running?
And why?
They say when a man gets gray that he looks more distinguished,
but when a woman does she just looks old.
Well, when women get breasts they look forever fantastic,
but when men do they're the ones who look old.
Who is this old woman who sits in a chair
Eyes wide and blank in a sightless stare
Attempting to edit her past unaware
That her life ticks by in couplets and pairs
And that where there is nothing, nothing is there.
my body gets stronger as I age
I am growing whiskers like a sage
my fingernails are too thick to clip
a mustache is growing on lower lip
this would be okay if I were a man
but I am an old woman, a hag, a gram.
There was an old woman:
a bit of a shrew -
She couldn’t have children,
'cuz guy parts won't do.
A shocking pink swath
up there on her head,
she drank boxed Chianti
and raised cats instead.
There was an old woman from Texas
Who counted at least fourteen exes
I asked, "How'd you do it?"
She said,"Nothin' to it."
"I've never been choosy on sexes"
7-15-19
Contest> State Limerick
Sponsor: Kevin Shaw
It's no wonder that old dame knew not what to do,
If she thought she could raise kids alone in a shoe.
She proved after the second
She was overly fecund,
Maybe Mother Goose reckoned she'd have child support, too.
As a child i wanted to be an adult
As an adult i wanted to be young
As an old woman i wanted to go back to my mothers womb
So that i could start life all over again and appreciate each stage as it comes and goes
As evening slips its frail chemise
Old woman dwells on passing sprees
To track hazed lifetime’s reveries;
Entrusting stars for pain’s release.
Rhyme Battle: Round 2 Contest
The Washer Woman in Canyonlands
An old woman laments
of her daily chores,
the stinging lye soap
and a biting washboard.
With knuckles bleeding
into the day’s dirty water,
she sighs and prays
for a better tomorrow.