Short Slather Poems
Short Slather Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Slather by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Slather by length and keyword.
Assign region flattery gauges?
Silly but let’s try anyway.
The Scottish slather it on.
The Germans withhold it.
It’s Irish blarney.
Overindulge
Compliment
Praise
rub my butt with spices
baste my breasts with olive oil
slather my wings and things with sauce
butter my thighs, slow broil
ah, the savory delights of a summer BBQ!
Have all you can eat.
Get it while it's hot
South Korean Dog meat.
With mustard sauce.
Some claim it's sweet.
Others say it's not
Slather on the cheese.
Before they're all gone.
This is me, no pretensions, or put-ons
Take me, squeeze me, slather my lower echelons
May detect a wee whimper
Now here comes the clincher
Will sing our national anthem with timbre
This is me, no airs, pretensions, or put-ons
Take me, squeeze me, slather my lower echelons
May detect a wee whimper
Now here comes the clincher
Will sing Portugal's national anthem with timbre
This is me, no airs, pretensions, nor put-ons
Take me, squeeze me, slather my upper echelons
May detect a wee whimper
Now here comes the clincher
Will sing Portugal's national anthem with timbre
This is me, no airs, pretensions, nor put-ons
Take me, squeeze me, slather my upper echelons
May detect a wee whimper
Now here comes the clincher
Will sing Portugal's national anthem with timbre
Summer fun has begun at last.
Sun is shining every morning.
Shimmy into our swimsuits fast.
Seaside soon will begin swarming.
Slather up with loads of sunscreen.
Sunglasses protect from sea sheen.
Sunbathing is a real blast.
21/06/2018
Thanksgiving brought our hearts to gather
Round the table, rich foods to slather
With salt, pepper and gravy
Just like we’re in the navy
Tummies shriek – still we regather
A Fun Holiday Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
November 15, 2022
My inner thoughts are usually hidden
Belonging to no one else; they’re mine alone
Few pry, recognizing my need to remain silent
My wisdom is covert; in my mind’s safety deposit box
I do slather my inner thoughts onto a page sometimes
Holding my breath, wondering about other people’s reactions
I read you like the paper
Your face a cover page
I catch the comics daily
I master all it's games
Extra, extra, I'm all about it
I'll slather up a soap box,
An' have that **** surrounded.
Hey everyone! This just in:
She's about to make headlines
For swingin' them bats like Tony Gwynn
P and P
Pumpernickel and a pickle,
My favorite with a slather of mayo lathered on.
Often my friends say,"begone,
We don't like Pumpernickel and a pickle with mayo slathered on"!
I just smile and munch away.
More pumpernickel, pickles, and mayo for me today!
The WONDER of Bread
you can
butter it
toast it
spam it
jam it
roll it
in a ball
green egg
and ham it
slather it with
anything that
can be spread
but you can’t
make a sandwich
without bread.
John G. Lawless
5/31/2015
submitted to – Sing Me..A Jingle! – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Lyric Man
you tell me that I need blue jeans
cause the tailpipe gets so hot
you say I need to wear leather boots
in case we should go down
you slather me with sunscreen
to protect me from wind and sun
you tighten the strap on my helmet
to make sure it stays on
all you do to keep me safe
makes me feel so loved
I climb on behind, away we go
long may the Victory run
I reach for fluorescent pink paint
My go-to favorite color of the hour
It looks more like neon orange thank pink
I slather it lavishly onto the canvas
It makes me smile, so I add more.
Pretty soon the canvas has it in five places.
It brings me artistic joy
Enthusiasm rises up from the canvas
The faeries like it as much as I do.
I begin to paint the dragon….
Feeling corny
By the sea
Stretched out baby
Please look at me
I got on my shades
Do you think I’m hot
This yellow tan baby
It ain’t store bought
Rub in that butter
Slather me up
If you rub deeply
I’m bound to pop
Sun kissed towels
Baby you and me
Both feeling corny
down by the sea.
Mystic Rose’s Choose one image poetry prompt contest.
Image number one.
Spread it on toast,
slather it on an English muffin.
Use it in your milkshake,
to make a smoothie,
top off a sundae or
crown a banana split.
Drop a dollop on a cracker
and plop it in your mouth.
Put it on a plate,
mixed with tiny chunks
of real creamery butter,
then spoon onto a
piping hot biscuit.
Rich, dark, tantalizing . . .
one of life's sweet joys,
Huckleberry Jam.
Of course I will eat it, the little boy said.
His grandpa must have been daft in his head.
What do you want on it? He asked the lad
Mayo, mustard, tomatoes, and slather it bad.
What about onions? Do you like them asked Gramps.
Yes, onions and pickles, I ate them during my camps.
Grandpa gave his grandson the biggest hot dog of all time.
They both had one, and returned home as green as a lime.
I live for
Peanut butter and cheese sandwiches.
Toasted in my toaster...usually when my world is in slumber
None to to judge me.
No butter...decadent enough .
I slather the caramel coloured concoction
On warm bread...to the edges.
slapping on a slab of cheese
I watch as the heat melts and weds it to the bread.
Then I settle in to enjoy the moment.
It is then I realize...I live for the moment.
Poetry is,
Not what I give.
Poetry is,
Not what I live.
Poetry is,
What it is.
Poetry is,
What I think it is.
Poetry is,
What I’d rather.
Poetry is,
What I sit here and slather.
Poetry is,
What I make matter.
Poetry is,
The life I gather.
Poetry is
The sight I see,
Poetry is,
The light I must be.
Poetry is,
The thing I seek.
Poetry is,
The thing I must keep.
5/12/2014
We unveiled her as the juniper tree
bowed down low to the ground
From the balcony, kids threw cranberries
which got stuck in her apple sprig crown
A humming bird swept past her shoulder
and graced her with jasper and jade
The elm tree showed her his virtue
as she quivered under his shade
And in the evening we peeled the rind
right off of the luscious moon
to slather her thick and gracious
on the headstone of her tomb.
Her colors are outrageous the grays and tans said.
I loved them myself, so thought they were off in their head.
The other kids loved Auntie’s slather of gorgeous hues too.
For blah beige-type colors we truly wanted to give a loud boo.
Auntie’s house was full of giggles, play, happiness and fun.
We loved everything about her, she had us nieces on the run.
Her décor was no more colorful than she was herself.
She designed every wall, window, pillow, and overhead shelf.
Beaches are open and golf courses, too.
Neighbors are meeting for barbecue.
Barbers are snipping like they used to do
But I’m quarantining at home.
Nanas and grandpas are visiting kin.
Sports venues say they’re prepared to begin.
Sunbathers slather their pale indoor skin
While within my apartment I roam.
Restaurants keep tables a distance apart.
Museums let patrons with masks look at art.
So many are ready for life to restart
As I sit here, inside, with my poem.
I want some chicken to chew on
I wanna eat it until its all gone
I want to slather it in turbo lax
And cover it in tic tacs
I love the chicken's neck
My parents always say "what the heck?"
But i don't care
Finding a grilled chicken neck is very rare
I'd kill somebody if they try to steel my chicken neck, but who would dare?
I eat it so fast i'm like the hear in tortoise and the hare
So when i see a chicken it better run
Because what i'm going to do to it isn't going to be very fun!