Short Skirt Poems

Short Skirt Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Skirt by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Skirt by length and keyword.


Mini Skirt

i set on the beach
i watch each
of those  pass in by
i kept a close eye
tho that set in the dirt
whereing
MINI SKIRT
Form:


Oops

A ladies' man named Winston MacWilt
pursued many women to the hilt.
He eyed every skirt
ever ready to flirt.
But he died touching a Scot in a kilt.
Form: Limerick

Shimmering Skirt

She whirls
Her silky skirts
SHIMMERING...

Soft
s u s p e n d i n g
~~kisses~~

Turns
Into a
PuLsAtInG

Love-wrapped-in-delicious-desire

DANCE

Premium Member Where The Sun Don’t Shine

Some times I may want to flirt, some times I like to play in the dirt. I could be right, or is it plain just out of sight? Please don't look under my skirt.
Form: Limerick

Premium Member A Hula-Hula Skirt

Sarina bought a hula-hula skirt Was so long it swept up the garden dirt When she mowed the lawn Her hula was shorn Now poor Sarina is known as Flirt Girt.
Form: Limerick


Blurt and Issue Did Skirt

Blurt and Issue Did Skirt

Out many bad words had to blurt;
After finished feelings would hurt;
Orange hair blond,
He had to abscond;
So each issue he is sure to skirt.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Limerick

Premium Member A Lump In His Skirt

A fellow from the south of South Africa Waltzed around in a skirt made of taffeta Some thought he was strange With his long curly mane A lump in his skirt proved him male to the maxima
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Wearing a Cute Little Skirt

Once entered a talent show just for beginners It was obvious from the start that I was a winner Sang Mary had a little lamb Showed how talented this guy am Wearing a cute little skirt which made me look slimmer © Jack Ellison 2015
Form: Limerick

Premium Member What's That Under Your Skirt

Here’s a thought that could be pursued
For the Scotts who would be tattooed
It is the new fad
To ink a kilt that's plaid
Around parts not normally viewed


Author's note: Thanks to Kelly in Old Town's (Va) restaurant for the inspiration. You are a fantastic server.
Form: Limerick

Smiling Skirt

Flying away as feathers is her smiling skirt
Blouse flaps itself as eagle wings in windy sky
Her legs tantalizing gazers as ripe sugar cane
With the eyes squinting as vale blue berries
And the hair like peeling off Sahara waste 
Pelt men as horses in a poorly shot movie
Form:

Peach Lace Skirt

She strutted in a peach lace skirt,
Engaged in conversation.
Her legs were bare for temps were warm –
From tights, a liberation!

It brought me back to younger years – 
That breeziness and hope,
When sunny days held promises
Which left no time to mope.

Her office beckoned, I was sure
But there’d be time to flirt,
For how could anyone resist
That brand-new peach lace skirt?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Have To Have a Short Plaid Skirt

My mother had three magazines coming monthly in the sixties.
Women’s Day, Redbook and Ladies Home Journal.
American Girl Magazine made its debut, and she bought if for us.
My twin and I.
I remember thinking “who dresses like this?”
With the first edition.
By the third month I had to have white go go boots.
And a short plaid skirt.
But of course, living with my mother, it was never short enough.

Gingham Skirt

I'll try my best 

but 

what if 

I don't ever look like those photos 

that you like to repost so much?


I see them

and

my insides 

begin to rot 



and my 

insides 

are all

I've got 



will you see me 

and then

hate me 

for not being so 

flawless 


Will you abandon me?

let the rot

that is inside me 

seethe out?



I think

I want 

to 

decay

Premium Member A Wilderness of Mirrors

What do I see,
you are looking back at me.
In my youth wearing a top of pink polka dots, 
with a skirt of green and orange fabric knots.
As I looked-I laughed until I cried,
every time the wilderness mirrors walk by.
These very old mirrors are such a thrill,
they love my fashion wear even if it is over the hill.
The years have gone by,
now I am old and that is not a lie.
This wilderness of mirrors hangs high,
no more catching my youthful eye.
Form: Rhyme

Swivel and Those Rude Menzz

guitar strangs man!
we heard the strang's of delgrin
and were beamed otta our seat's
it's like booty-booty bomb sh4t!
I mean the bassy grooves and the lyrics
they hit me like a stereo!
swing dos' hips and get a grip
on some real good loving!
singles and swingers, baby what's for dinner
cause dessert is you !
I mean like who's got the answer
when the question is wrong
laid back getting squirt's from the boss type
loving!
greasy fanga's gal show!
groovy bassy funk!

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