Short Scolds Poems
Short Scolds Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Scolds by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Scolds by length and keyword.
sun bleached porch swing creaks
a crow scolds a calico
bird seed turns to dust
2.1.2020
she gives a great scolding
her angry trills give me chills
apparently we upset her when we peeked in the nest
her screeches make hair stand up on my neck
He paints a face for all to see,
Of grace and high morality.
He scolds the world for every sin,
While hiding all the rot within.
He loves the mask, he loves the lie ,
Until the mirror catches his eye.
His lovely wife is named Heaven
She scolds him seventy times seven
Yet, Big Joe just never really cared
In Heaven he lives happily, hearing impaired!
Stacey Brown 2-6-14
Dr. Ram Mehta contest
Husbands are in heaven
whose wives scold not
To thee,YAHUAH,do i look.
Oh!,My God,i trust in you.
My foe scolds me,have them not,
Break them like chaff,even like hu-wars' knot.
On thee did my attention tarry,
Proove me and make me merry.
Mockery is by me,squeezing out my faith.
Deliver me O YAHUAH,before my faith's death.
17:16:11:14:14
We leave our
jackets around the chairs
in spite of the
formalility of the setting.
Well, the outsiders are,
as usual, absent.
There are no guests to
make the rooms into a
tasteful memory.
I know her jacket
and she knows mine. She
sometimes scolds me
but I take it with good grace.
I know she is not
mother.
Dedicated To All My Children
Seven times have I been blessed,
Seven tiny cheeks caressed,
Seven babies clothed and fed,
Seven angels put to bed.
Seven children’s smiles and tears,
Seven times the scolds and cheers,
Seven lives to guide each day,
Seven names when I kneel to pray,
That Heaven will bless each one of these
Seven personalities.
faucets drip
radiators rattle
hinges creak
dad’s in the saddle
lights blink
a/c blows
stove’s aflame
off mom goes
shower’s cold
sister scolds
true shalom
~ happy home
I wake up in the morning, seeing her face
She wishes me good morning, full of grace
She talks to me in her lovely voice
And asks father to bring me toys
She makes the dishes I like to eat
Sometimes she scolds me but never beats
She supports me when I am right
During trouble she holds me tight
I never want to go far away from her
Because she is my one and only mother.
His father’s brutality saw no limits
In skin burning days when Sun is blazing over head
He scolds and says “you’re the biggest failure of my life”
His father’s brutality saw no limits
In nights that are cold as the winter
He punished him for things he never did
His father’s brutality saw no limits
Made him believe he is the one in wrong
When it was father who stained the moon
Magdalena,
your beauty known
Magdalena,
your wisdom shown
Magdalena,
firm and steadfast
Magdalena,
communed repast
Magdalena,
so loved a man
Magdalena,
his blood in hand
Magdalena,
though history scolds
Magdalena,
your heart withholds
Magdalena,
much more than friend
Magdalena,
—the truth contends
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
running around the house
and then she scolds you
for not sleeping in the
summer afternoon
i remember not wanting to sleep
that has always been the case
so she would tell me a scary story
to make me sleep silently in peace
that kid sometimes would sneak away
without disturbing his mother's sleep
and try to find something to do
but there's nothing only the silence of a summer afternoon
A picture crept in,
Through all those memories,
Where I found myself ,
Besides my mother's knees,
When her brown hairs,
Gleamed red,
Fell on her shoulder,
Then dropped over my head.
When her hands fondled my forehead,
Stroked through my hairs,
When her words formed my babbles,
Her scolds,my care.
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
And make me again her four year old child.
HERE I AM
BORN ALONE, ALL TO GROW
IN A WORLD SO COLD
CLONED TOO BOLD
NOT SO OLD WITH ALL THAT I VE TOLD
UNENDING SCOLDS
...
HERE I AM
PLEADING WITH FATE
TO PLEASE THROW OPEN ITS GATES
AS THERE IS NO FRIEND TO TEND
MY BLEEDING WOUNDS TO END
ALL ALONE, BORN TO GROW
IN A WORLD FULL OF GROANS
REALLY HAVEN BEEN TOLD
BY WIND OF CHANGE
IN THIS CRAZY PLACE CALLED EARTH....:
AM HERE ALL ALONE.
ENDLESS WINTER
There’s a big to do
On the high Olympus Mount
He in charge of spring
Has wandered off taken wing
And the wild snow piles higher
Zeus is so angry
God Winter rages uncheck’d
All is ice covered
Wife Hera scolds day and night
Athena shivers a fright
A search is begun
Have you seen spring anyone
And at last he’s found
Sleeping in some Shangri La
A land of eternal sun
Discovery eases many doors within,
It fills my thoughts with chagrin,
My heart beseeches reprieve,
From feelings I cannot believe,
I crave some essence of promotion,
Though my conscience lacks the notion,
That a greater occurrence could transpire,
I know you feel my relentless desire,
It scolds my chest,
With no rest,
I crave the taste,
See what we face,
Even if I had a dime,
We’d be left with no time.
Teaching is the best profession
A teacher teaches life
And hopes the best for our lives
A teacher becomes a mother
And a friend
A teacher scolds
And cry’s behind her anger
A teacher teaches to hold a pen
And in future to lead
A teacher teaches right and wrong
So that we always take the right path
A teacher would never forget you
Even though you may forget her
She would always have a room
For you in her heart.
In shrilling silence, my moans of defiance subside;
Falling tears no one hears, drop and drop, midst my drear.
In all these years, I've never cried the way I've cried;
Each drop shatters the silence in echoes of past years.
No sun shines today; even the heavens mock my pain,
A bitter cold that scolds the lover, borne you away
And stole you back from those angels in their jealous vein.
Within his sepulcher, in darkest silence, my love will reign.
The Ass scolds the Crab
that dug a large hole nearby,
worried that his reputation
would be ruined thereby.
For when folks see that dark
hollow there in the ground
with just the ass nearby
and no one else around,
they'll rib each other with
such a question so crass:
"What do you call that hole
belonging to that ass?"
Indeed, when folks have picked
their favorite point of view,
no blame-shifting or damage
control can save you.
It’s a Magic Biscuit
Tender, flaky
Round of course
Golden contours
Awaiting hungry, stretching lips
The Magic Biscuit
Answers many riddles
And asks a few, too…
“How will I taste?”
“Will my flavor and texture
please you?”
“Are you thankful for me?”
All to be revealed in due time
To those deemed worthy…
Both fawning supplicants
And flinty-eyed riddlers
Certainly welcome to apply
The Magic Biscuit
Provides, heals, teaches
Sometimes scolds…
Accepts
Behold the Magic Biscuit
Symbol of Hope