Short Rough Around The Edges Poems
Short Rough Around The Edges Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rough Around The Edges by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rough Around The Edges by length and keyword.
Shaggy bark oak tree...
Why are you shaggy?
Rough around the edges,
Slick cousins mock you.
Stand proud, elegant,
yet differently, wonderful!
I wrote a poem that alleges
that I left her a little too rough around the edges,
and would I kindly try to rewrite.
So, all night long, I added and deleted,
moved around and repeated,
till she finally said, "Yeah, that feels just about right."
I drank you in
Whiskey no chaser
Rough around the edges
Smooth enough to keep me wanting more
I was drunk on your smile
Kisses tipping me in to no mans land
Everything was hazy but you
I don't remember the night
I just remember your hands and
Laughter that bubbled like champagne
Art like Monet
It is like an alternate reality
Soft, vivid full of pureness
Unlike harsh reality
Raw and rough around the edges
Hustling for the next desire
Monet simply lies there
In its purest form
Of Watercolor Aesthetics
The waves of the water he paints
Immerses my eyes with clouds of subtle feeling
A feeling that is smoother than reality
Captured in a stroke
The paint on the grand easel
Monet
In one dark corner they met
It was a meeting they both will never regret
For the ceiling a little rough around the edges
was a shelter for the wall
And the wall was the support for the ceiling and all
Their endearment for each other was not without gains
for out of it came sunshine filled window panes
The ceiling buffeted the blows of the elements of life
While the wall stood the strain with joy
and sorrow of every day strife
I take you down and look you over,
you've seen better days.
Not so young as you used to be,
and you smell musty. I lay you open
and begin my examination.
I take off your jacket.
In all honesty much of your language
is extraneous, in need of editing.
Simple is as simple does.
You're green and moldy,
and rough around the edges;
you'll need a good rubbing with linseed oil.
I close your pages,
and put you back on the shelf,
a labor of love for another day.
Loud, rowdy, coarse,
a bit rough around the edges,
more likely to say “Shut Up!”
than “Quiet Please.”
Jeans, well worn,
faded by harsh winds,
and searing sun.
face to match.
The “gods?”
diabolical match makers.
Soft spoken, silky smooth,
edges buffed,
hushed a room
on entering.
Tailored,
off the rack,
draped on artistic
magnificence,
smiling……that…
smile.
©3/21/2018
submitted too – Burlap and Satin – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Anthony Slausen