Short Purse Poems
Short Purse Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Purse by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Purse by length and keyword.
I love how he is always manhandling my precious purse,
It's better than how he was handling my actual purse.
I love how he is always fondling me until I aloud curse.
Stylish purse stands tall and proud
Showing her colors, sparkling and loud.
The rest of the purses are a bit intimidated.
Many of them already recycled or eliminated.
Cheer up friends, it could be worse
You could be the star inside a hearse
So buck up Charlie
Just aim to parley
Your fortune in life to a bright golden purse
Cheer up my friends, it could be worse
You could be riding in the back of a hearse
So buck up Charlie
Just aim to parley
Your fortune in life to a bright golden purse
A purse with no coins
a sink with no drain
Pants with no pockets
flowers without rain
Oceans without water
winding roads with no end
A world custom-designed
to cultivate friends
Survey as artist drafts her masterpiece,
enclosing space invisibly across.
Then single-handedly, she will increase
the center parts to form unseen valise.
October 19, 2020
stanza taken from my piece, Spider's Purse, written November 17, 2010
A silk purse is made
from quality proven cloth....
sow’s ear excluded
----------------------------------
"A silk purse can not be made from a sow's ear"
meaning good products can not be made from
poor materials"
© Jun 29 2010 for John’s “Redneck Psalms” contest
Inhaler
Dimes
Brown napkin
Three pairs of eye glasses
Two pencils, an eraser and a pen
Wallet with seventeen dollars and eighty-two cents
Comb, cracker, stale muffin, five receipts, toothpicks
Tiny piece of pink ribbon, twenty-two allergy pills
Empty pill bottle
Sometimes finding a forgotten purse feels like Christmas
secrets in grandmas purse
There were hidden depths in Grandma Kates purse.
Children, gathered close when she came to stay, hoping
to partake of some strange or exotic tidbit. Everyone tried
to look nonchalant but were bursting to peer inside.
humbugs with creamy stripes
sen sen in a paper packet
red turkish delight
Stumble, fumble, ponder, worry,
From under a thumb a Rifler did scurry.
Cold night as it was,
And only one purple slipper,
The Rifler ventured
Met a West London clipper.
Vivid and boisterous,
So brilliant this sight.
And wise beyond years
To the Rifler's delight.
So moved he had left her.
And after years of malarky,
She knew what to do now.
If she could just find her car key!
He swivels his hips and the felines come running
I am not one of them, I am balcony sunning.
I watch them howl at his gyrations and grinds.
He is such a tease; and he attracts all kinds.
Since he started to dress up like his hero Elvis
He has more action than a street walker’s pelvis.
I roll my eyes, glad I threw him away when I did.
He is my ex-husband, who doesn’t even support our kid.
though they sought the gentle verse
a wracking pain drew up their purse
as thoughtless sovereigns hissed their curse
the dollars drained; their feign- rehearsed
this tragic dismantling
ever-torn fabric seams
flowing a pious demand of the feed
groveling majesties
planted their effigy
cordially under the pew cushion seats
stating repeat
loving the myrrh
silent decree
ebony spurs
A fellow poet the other day
Had the kindest words to say
At first I kind of felt all nerdy
To hear my poem would be “purse worthy”
This was a term quite new to me
So she explained it so I’d see
It meant she thought the poem was good
She’d put it in her purse – she would
So she could read it any time
I’m kind of glad I wrote that rhyme
Mdailey 6/21/11
Inspired by Cyndi M.’s comments on one of my poems
three inhalers
two bottles with one pill each
six receipts from dollar stores
one bedraggled checkbook
straw wrapper
three pairs of glasses, all smudged
I-phone
sunglasses missing one lens
twenty-three pennies
two nickels
twenty-seven dollars in a small coin purse
Kleenex
three credit cards
Medicare card
reminder to pay a bill from three months ago
I get rid of the pennies
hoping my purse will be lighter
VERSE PURSE
Yearly tradition
Poetry competition
All had ambition
Just wait for the call
Announced in the Poet Hall
Said the know it all
Poems submitted
Against each other pitted
Even dim-witted
The results were in
The winner identified
And brought to the front
It was a lottery
Not based on experience
Most there were displeased
When not selected
He said to the guy behind
Not chosen, are you
Its Quality! ... Its Class
Yes, Its Classic Style Will Last!
Its High Clique', Trés Chic' ... Demure
Its Fashion-Forward - Hauté Couture!
You Look Like Duchess Kate
You'll Really Wow Your Prom Date
It Looks Like A Vera Wang
What's The Price? ... Oh, Luv - Go Change!
I Ain't Paying That Much - For That Thang' !!!
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/12/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
a dizain
Admire her casting, lines of silky floss;
survey as artist drafts her masterpiece.
Enclosing space invisibly across,
then single-handedly, she will increase
the center parts to form unseen valise.
A purse of unsuspected, vicious taint -
its straps in hand, she naps - a wily feint.
Artistic beauty flows, but will soon ebb,
when tender insects clutter her restraint.
Artiste awakes to wealth within her web.
Nov. 17, 2010
A Stolen Purse
By Elton Camp
Sue’s BMW was parked in front of her house
Where her purse was stolen by some louse
The neighborhood was supposed crime free
Because it was located in a gated community
The purse was worth $400, Sue did claim
A wallet valued at $200 she also did name
Her purse also contained a nice little stash
In it was $800, every bit of it in cold cash
Sue doesn’t know what she is going to do
For the thief got her food stamps cards too
From Riches I think like the Rich.
Their problems in need of being solved.
Where thinking outside of the box
means others less rich or evolved.
Where people who think like the poor
have problems that never get solved.
And thinking outside of their box
means yelling - "The Rich Are Involved".
Where nothing we have is in common
and nothing we share more a curse.
That deaths side by side should mean nothing
than the grave of a grave digger's purse.
My twin sister Carolyn is wildly creative.
She has made me a Lucille Ball purse.
It is fabulous; I love it!
There is a cartoon montage of Lucy all over it.
Many recognizable faces on various episodes of I Love Lucy.
I carried it around to several stores today.
Strangers begged to know where I got it.
I could have set up shop and sold these.
It’s a computer bag, not a purse my sister told me when I called her.
I smiled at the predictability of my twin.
I know a lady who had an overflowing very small grey purse,
there was so much "stuff" inside that it was threatening to burst;
anyways some time goes by until we meet again,
and she proudly shows me her new purchase;
a larger purse . . . that is ready to burst !
____________________
September 17, 2022
For my friend Norine
Poetry/Light Verse/The Purse
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1488-811-17
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
S earching the store aisles
A dorable gifts found
M ix with school supplies
A rrange in the shoe box
R elease package on its long journey
I n prayer send the gift away
T rip to what country?
A nd into what child's hands?
N ew toy, school supplies
S pecial day to remember
P ray without ceasing
U ntil after Christmas
R eason, believe it reached the children
S upernaturally the right children
E ternally changing his and her life
Money not in one’s purse for long
Does not make a welcome song;
Attract it does notions of a curse
Not all of them hurled at the purse.
But it is a challenge to self reimburse
And try to become one’s financial Nurse,
So that things don’t heat up to a worse
And bombs you never wanted at first
Fatally going ahead to burst.
Money for long not in a purse
Makes one’s tips tightly purse,
Ceaselessly fetching one languid remorse
And me keeps a rolling stone, no moss.
My beautiful
thoughts
are carrying
your
ugly purse
Inside
lipsticks
that gave
a thousand
kisses
Alongside
perfumes
that tittalated
your
manly sentiments
Underneath
scented lotions
that absorbed
the skin of
your potions
Over
keys that
ignited sparks
beating in
your heart
Beside
credit cards
slipped
inside my
wallet
charging
your interest
Tucked away
in the zipper
compartment
snickers bars
from
your sweetest
department
(Work in progress)
Dedicated to my little Bubby!
Hello Kitty, Barbie it doesn’t matter
It holds her Christmas money and Birthday wishes close to her heart
She wants to be a grown up
Her Innocent charm is adorable
Now in her chest
Holds her hopes and dreams
Of her future Prince Charming
A Fairytale it seems
This time it’s bigger
Writing supplies and books
A change of clothes
On her it hooks
Now square and flat
To carry her day
She keeps it close
So her life’s work won’t fade away