Short Peas Poems
Short Peas Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Peas by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Peas by length and keyword.
its the day of church
day to be alert
am not a jerk
i love to eat and sleep
not on monday
love
BLACK EYE PEAS ON
SUNDAY
There's something funny about God
That some find decidedly odd
We look to the sky
And still wonder why
We only find peas in a pod
once a fellow named peas
jumped some rather tall trees
though he became sick
trying to mimic
flights of migrating geese.
Sister where are you going?
Can I go along?
I reckon, but you have to do what I say!!
OK just so I can go, too!
Two peas in a pod.
its a food thats so cool
make you strong
tough bones
come from the ground
we plant them around
it like a hanging weake
BLACK EYE PEAS
Poetry and math - two peas in a pod.
Why then do you look at me so odd?
They’re both to discover and express
The simple truth beneath the mess.
Peas can be green, yellow or black
Often sweet, never sour
You can eat them at virtually any hour
Yet when finished, who is ever satisfied
In a pod not a boat
but pry yellow tee flags
red
did he say pea green
almost there
to the 8th
a couple more to the
forces of evil disappear
this is a treat
makes you eat
jump on your feet
you eat and sleep
so don't think twice
you will feel nices
HAVE SOME
BLACK EYE PEAS AND RICES
its a food
that cool
thats a plant
some chant
to make it grow
that what the said before
so what ever you go
won't be please
eat
BLACK EYE PEAS
I'll eat black-eyed peas New Years Day hoping for better luck than last year!
Entry for Silent One's "New Year One Liner" Contest
(29 December 2018)
There was a pub called the Cross Keys
Well known for its pork pie and peas.
But the watered down beer
Gave drinkers no cheer.
And the seats were crawling with fleas.
“The peas have sprouted,” he said with a shout!
Old Man Winter has finally gotten out.
Soon it will be fresh vegetables and flowers,
And fighting the deer so they won’t devour!
Where is it written countries must be at odds
All part of the big picture all peas in a pod
Some feel inferior
But no one's superior
All part of the overall scheme, no one is God
I'm not like you
you're not like me
on that
you and I
we can agree
but
strange to say
and there's no mystique
Snap!
we're really all the same
in that...
we are all unique
An exact duplicate, my son Scottie and me
Can read each other's mind, three times out of three
Can get closer than that
Two real cool cats
He drinks caesar after caesar till I can't see
An exact duplicate, my son Scottie and me
Can read each other's mind, three times out of three
Can't get closer than that
Two real cool cats
He drinks caesars after caesars till I can't see
Garden fresh and delicious to the core
Fattens before my wondering eyes
When ripe almost falls off the vine
Trumps supermarket produce
Astoundingly tasty
Easily frozen
Laying in her
Cozy pod
Happy
Peas
they say I see the world as simple black and white
it's one way or the other and I'm quick to start a fight
as though a world of rainbows shines from their backside
never seeing peas, they think there's only rice
Once there was a pea
two pods could not see
It was so lonely
The pea was all by itself,
You see
What could one pea hope to be?
Safe were the pods from the supper bell's toll
And that one single pea,
was not enough for me
They are so old-fashioned, these two peas in a pod.
I heard this from Jake, Fred, Sally, Victor and Maud.
Saw them in public, they were wearing century old clothes.
Why they dress like this, I doubt that any other pea knows.
They are so old-fashioned, these two peas in a pod.
I heard this from Jake, Fred, Sally, Victor and Maud.
Saw them in public, they were wearing century old clothes.
Why they dress like this, I doubt that any other pea knows.
Markmanship, hunting and nature walks
are the activities of choice.
Anything is fine as long as Dad
and son are together,
Two peas in a pod.
Round green, black eyes,
purple hulls, zipper full.
Any kind is good in its own way.
What if the country we're bombin,
was bombin us instead?
There wouldn't be a road left
to stop and rest our head!
Some say it's an Intense WAR,
just phrased as "Mighty Sad"
Wonder if we're the Good Guys
Or possibly the Bad?
The sensitive strokes of Georgia O'Keeffe's brush
have aroused in sweet pea petals, a tender pink blush
In these ruffled labian folds, painted as a fragile flower
buds beget blooms in their feminine garden bower