Short Sweatshirts Poems

an orangutan sits in my oak tree
his nest is made of my sweatshirts three
he cuts the cheese; it blows into my nose
I know he plans to steal the rest of my clothes...

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I am the undeniable expert of me.
Wearing Christmas sweatshirts in June sets me free.
I can be eccentric and fun,
Make terrific friends by the ton,
When I live my truth as I see....

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Mickey Mouse is as popular as ever.
So cute and round and ultimately clever. 
Smiling from sweatshirts, shoes and socks.
Laughing at us from purses, belts and clocks.
If his name had remained Mortimore, would it still be so?
I wonder as I see his grinning face wherever I go…....

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Sweatshirts are my favorite clothes
Warm and cuddly, comfy too
I have many as my husband knows
In red, pink, green, gray and blue

My husband has bought me a little gift
A Foghorn Leghorn orange sweatshirt
It will be my favorite if you get my drift
For the prime driver I will stay alert...

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It’s fall, y’all
And as the leaves
Change color, we
Put on long sleeves.

It’s time for socks
And sweatshirts zipped
So when temps drop
We’re well-equipped.

The air is filled 
With pumpkin spice
And mums in baskets
Look real nice.

Go apple picking – 
Heed the call
Of autumn’s treats – 
It’s fall, y’all!...

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obsession, books, shirts, posters.
txt messages, sweatshirts, mysterys devine.
Gossiping girls, movies made.
Bella, Edward, my dear Jake.
I can't wait till the next movie,
so instead ill write a verse, sing a song, and read along.
I am into the books but not obsessed, so please grab a hold of reality,
and treasure a good story....

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I have heard of a lazy day
Now I live them daily
Doing little to nothing at all
Looking at piles of things I could sort
But I don’t.

Retirement is a whole new perspective
A world unbeknownst to me until now
I have been dormant for six months
Living in a world of sitting, sleeping and lounging
Wearing pajamas, elastic waistbands, and sweatshirts
I rarely move; I am a contented slug...

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gather them up
sweet boy smell
as many as I an carry
hot from the car
into the bed
sunburned salty and happy
what do they dream
smiling
of the waves
 crabs
or fireworks
bundled in sweatshirts by the bonfire
built by dad uncle grandpa
as stars explode over
nestled two by two with dad
big arms to hold them at the end of the day
strong chest to keep them safe
sleep
low voices, gentle touches
home...

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My pal Charlotta bejewels everything she touches and sees
She has done up sweatshirts, coats and pants to their knees
But bedazzling a pumpkin? That seems weird even to me.
I ran right over to see it though, for a peek was totally free.

She started out spray painting the pumpkin black.
Then she cared a spider; her mother gave her no black.
She bejeweled that spider in a glamourous way, not at all mean. 
It was the most beautiful carved pumpkin I have ever seen....

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Crisp lemon colored leaves
kamikaze off branches
Diving and dying
Glorious unconcerned dance

Squirrels chatter
Scold each other over nuts
flip their curly tails
with sassy attitudes

Deer walk softly,
fearing November, understanding
Many will be laying down their lives in November
Their hoofs smash multi-colored leaves into the forest floor.

October cool.
Sweaters and sweatshirts precede scarves and mittens
Songbirds sing their joy as trees go bare.
Announcing winter early...

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