Short Rode Poems
Short Rode Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rode by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rode by length and keyword.
If my grandma rode a reindeer,
Eventually would end up here;
Was hardy;
Life of party;
Bought us all a round of beer.
Jim Horn
Though most Americans praise it
Donald Trump has vowed to raze it
Why leave it to fate
When we can just mate
And let Republicans raise it?
the magi rode again
after the star of David rose to reign
the royal in manger in the stable
lay he ready to enable
but Herode wanted him slain
Remember when we strode on a scenic road,
While we had been bearing very heavy load;
Out would gaze,
For long ways;
On our sad and weary bodies surely showed.
Jim Horn
I rode my bike west until I hit the ocean blue.
No you did not! Argued an old soft shoe.
I did, I replied, turning him into glue.
He had called me a liar, so wouldn’t you?
With Vigor Rode In On Trigger
Our anxiety grew bigger and bigger,
Until someone appeared with vigor;
With a long lariat;
He would carry it;
Roy Rogers had rode in on Trigger.
Jim Horn
Here's the news with anchor, Horseju Rode Inon
Man claims to have been visited by a scary apparition
With weird scary hair
All straggly down to there
It touched his dangly bits without permission
It's the six o'clock news with anchor, Horseju Rode Inon
Man claims to have been visited by a scary apparition
With weird scary hair
All straggly down to there
It touched his dangly bits without permission
It's the six o'clock news with anchor, Horseju Rode Inon
Man claims to have been visited by a scary apparition
With weird scary hair
All straggly down to there
It touched his dangly bits without permission
Trump Rode Pony While Being Phony
While riding pony Trump was a phony fraud;
Would watch women when clothes they shod;
He forgot about belated;
Much trouble generated;
Found bad things when in his past did prod.
Jim Horn
Like beautified
Double-winged butterfly
Took a ride beautiful
There I rose
And you I rode
On petals of a rose.
So I love
The hive of your love
For thence scent I rode.
In cool breezy saddle
On bright scented petals
I rode a red rose.
She rode on the back of a cyclone’s tail.
We did not put it together until years later.
I am sure she was standing
Probably did not fall once, knowing her.
She left on the back of Hailey’s Comet,
The only one who saw it, as it was completely unscheduled.
Limerick : Once a rich Janitress rode on a broom
Once a rich Janitress rode on a broom
From cheek to jowl her looks spelt dire doom
She thought she owned the world
And the world owed her gold
So she chewed gold and lost gums and bloom.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
She rode with him to Shebuktoo
she rode up and down the hilly concourse
riding shot gun like on his big white horse
when he shot his gun high in the air
a huge blast of shouts shook the pair
in frenzy she bucked, too, arriving with a force
connie pachecho
2/24/17
Limerick: Once a mum Mademoiselle rode in a Metro
for Heather M.
Once (a) mum Mademoiselle rode in (a) Metro
Felt snug and dozed dreaming of Brando
Lights went out, the train stopped
Coach temperature dropped
She woke up in arms of Eskimo.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
SUSAN RODE THE TROLLEY TO THE TRAIN TO HOUSTON
TO BUY A SPECIAL DOLLY
Oh! gee ooh-wee golly, golly;
Rode the tracks of the long trolley;
Little girl named Susan;
Rode the train to Houston;
To toy store purchased a dolly;
6/19/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
The cattle barons rode into town
They were dressed in blah, black and brown
Faces stoic and plain
Bulls of Iowa fame
They marched to the square to confront the clown
The clown was frightened of these big six
There was not a happy one in the mix
Hamburger? No way!
We are here to stay
Clown, owner of the diner, was in a fix
Tribute to Columbia’s Seven
They rode the stars to
See our earth on horses made
By man… they were awe
Struck…but something went
Wrong…their lost is great…tears flowed
Free…their jobs were done.
Now, instead of space
Walking they all do walk with
God’s one beloved son.
W.C.Hull © 2020-21-4-H1353-
2463-I50-K50-39-L56-12
Evil rode as they passed us by
And we did not look them in the eye
What was needed was strength and faith
We knew then the fight would take place
So we saddled up and met the battle
Where some of us would hear the death rattle
But soldier on we did and knew the score
Once the battle was joined death was at the door.
© Paul Warren Poetry
the spider rode the horse
the horse he rode as a rider
the cow had wondered how
the sheep was still asleep
the worm then rode the horse
the horse he rode on his turn
the goat had not seen owt
the pig lined up for it
the farm that day felt different
a different farming day
the horse soon looking full
then towards him came the bull
Then came Trump
No one talks about Syria anymore,
Was there a war there?
The bombing of Mosul the long siege
Trump occupies the news
And the whole world from pigmies
In the inner Congo, to the tall Dutch
In Amsterdam, are Psychanalysts?
The press robbed of their pompous
Self-regard like a school yard bully
Scolded, plots shocking stories about
The President of the USA
I rode my tortoise to the fair
To other pets he can’t compare
I asked my mama what to wear.
She said she frankly did not care.
We thought people might stop and stare.
Saw lady in her underwear.
They did which is not ever rare.
Passed by a mare sitting on a chair.
Cute pink hair with a lion’s rare.
I thought her hair might be a dare.
We rode right to the village square.
It sure took long to get me there.
"Wake within the Rose Wilderness,"
with the sky of pinks as this day closes.
"I beseech the sun to undress the stars,"
as the moon comes over the crest.
"If I am your refrain, let my name burn,"
in the morning light as the sun climbs out of bed.
"Tortured by the taste of Touch,"
today will the hot sun burn me once more?
"What is a ripple without its rhythm?"
Like the daily sun without the nightly moon.
POEM 18 AS MY BUS RODE AND STOP
I RODE MY BUS LOOKING FOR THSAT
SWEET LOVING LADY I HAVE BEEN LOOKING
FOR ON THE BUS.
AS I SIT ON THE BUS STOP WATCHING
AND LOOKING FOR THIS LADY TO PASS BY
FOR SHE CAN BEFORE ME AT THE BUS STOP.
WHEN MY DAY COME TO AN END I HOPE TO
HAVE THAT LADY I MEET AT THE BUS STOP.
TO COME HOME WITH ME TO SHOW LOVING AND
KIND THAT THE WAY I AM.
MR. PROFESSOR. JERRY”BIG PAPA” WELLS
AUTHOR