Short Rummy Poems
Short Rummy Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rummy by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rummy by length and keyword.
We have to be delicate grandma said
There is no time for that. Her leg is dead!
Thought it was her tummy
I was playing rummy
But I swear I thought it was also her head.
Twiddle de twiddle dum
That’s how it is with me and my rum
Called a friend to join the fun
He turned out to be a bum
So it remains with me and my rum
Twiddle de twiddle dum
Nights like this are made for us
Crescent moon smiles down;
broadly
We walk along the river
Coke and a picnic basket
With two flashlights we begin
Gin rummy, we play all night
Mork from Ork
Mork landed down from planet Ork
he never called a man dork
was ever so funny
he never drank rummy
he never did flip a cork
Written: Nov. 17, 2015
Theresa
a fun poem.
day is new.
something fun to do.
kazoo, or zoo.
weekend, fun begins.
unwind, tune in.
zen or gin rummy.
shop or not.
play all day.
chores to do, think small.
back to the mall.
Form:
Euphony Success didn't reach
at my House Divine;
Money in Dress did teach
the lie in Shrine;
Honey Access did preach the
shy for wine;
Rummy Progress did Breach
did die the Shine;
Dummy Excess did Seize
the Sky of Mine.
There was a young chap from Berlin
Who stressed lack of sleep was a sin
He would get out of bed
On condition, he said,
That breakfast included dry gin.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: A Traditional Limerick
Hosted by Viv Wigley
Placed 2nd
Whenever you roll your dices, you get sixes.
You always win at rummy.
You form the most matched sets.
I sometimes feel like a dummy.
When we collect points,
You quit when I'm leading.
I'm all proud, loud and voiced,
But I think it's you who's winning.
Thank you for making me smile
In my gloomy time.
Maybe I'll start smoking weed again
I was much happier back in those Mexican gold days
tickling nickel bags- giggling away the night
playing 500 rummy with my best buddy mike
crushing the munchies with bowls of mac-n-cheese
forever plotting to overthrow virginity...
praying our pimples to fade away by Monday.
Monday nights
Are India pale ale,
Tuesdays
Stouts & porters.
Then comes
Whiskey Wednesday
& seven –
Tawny death
In slow sips.
You wonder
How it comes:
Sudden
Moonshine,
Stinging & harsh
Or in Canadian mists,
Buffalo traces, wild
Turkeys
Feral as forests
Or soft & rummy--
An easy sweet
Slipping to nothingness,
The last liqueurs
Liquid as eyes
Seeping silently
Through rye rivers
Rapidly rushing
Toward night.
Quicksand caught generation epoch,
restless whirring of a drill in the dust.
Zenith of color shifts saturation to none,
black and white film on video cassette.
Ensnared in a cage lowering to molten,
hourglass is losing sand to run dry.
Eyes fixate to the sunny horizon,
flicker dims as monsters crawl,
from beneath beds, closets,
bathroom stalls.
Those noises,
creaks in the floor,
are very real.
Ignore them,
rummy for thy belly to fill.
He blows his fortune on poker and rummy
She lives by the fridge where life is so yummy
With vows long ago said
They're now happily wed
He to his gambling and she to her tummy
Are this couple truly happily wed
Is the wife happy because she’s well fed
His poker and rummy
Is not at all funny
Something tells me that the romance is dead
__Belle Bellevue
12/20/22
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