Short Terry Poems
Short Terry Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Terry by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Terry by length and keyword.
There was a man called Terry
Who captained his own Ferry
When his ship hit a rock
He recovered from the shock
Drinking a bottle of Sherry.
At midnight,
The scarecrow
Sleepwalks and leaves
His mark upon every grave
Giant footprints abound,
In a quiet sleepy place
Called Terry Town
The arrest of David Berkowitz ended the growing terror faced by New York City,
but investigative journalist Maury Terry uncovered much more to this story.
An eighteen-inch trilobite, which is me.
Related to spiders and crabs….tee hee.
Advanced life form.
Will not conform.
If you want me, I’ll be in the sea.
Terry or Jaclyn, matters not one iota
Still has the same loveable persona
Been far too long
Hearing her song
Best not go astray again, sweet magnolia
Terry, dear Terry, how's you this fine day
Hope you're happy and singing away
Wish you good luck
Most of all, aw shucks
Find you so loveable, what more can I say
© Jack Ellison 2015
Terry and John John... John John and Terry
Love these guys a bunch, feel like a fairy
Bestowing my blessing
Feelings I'm professing
Make me slap happy, it's getting kinda scary
Terry Lad a fiddle player
plucked his fiddle with his bow
And whenever he raised again
the cats would lull endure.
They followed him good and gay
that wasn't very cool.
It made the stray dogs prolonged a bay
to hear the fiddler play.
5/10/2023
Miss Terry sent me Soup Mail, included much love
Bright lights flashed across the skies up above
My mind sped up
Felt like a young pup
My pulse started racing giving my heart a huge shove
You have touched this old duffer, dearest Terry!!!
Terry's Death
Terry's death was a crushing blow
One we loved and closely did know
Hear at home he had died
And his family cried and cried
Party for him we should throw.
That was what they did for Terry
today. They had a service followed
by a wake. Jim Horn
French Terry Knit Fabric,
I’m comfy overlay-
fibers of yarn on my pale skin,
cozy on Autumn days.
Embroidered silk within,
sleek with burnished and shiny glaze.
Knit Your Fabric Contest
Nette Onclaud
November 11, 2017
As we gobble berry
And devour cherry
The heart is merry
Towards Bliss on a ferry
For Jerry and Kerry
And for Perry and Terry
As we indulge berry
And mouths cram with cherry
Disappointments we bury
And our woes the dreary
Then, a reply that shouldn’t me weary:
Where’s my promised berry
And guaranteed cherry?
Man does man have ways when he wants to fight, I pray the race gets renewed by warriors who use energy spikes instead of virus spikes, ... and how is God? I hide him in my chest away from guns, I'm shooting for the moon with bullet sized stars, my friend, and a pen of course, sending you a beg hello, :) and a smile to make your day.
For My Friend Terry
I must count all of the many ways
Even if in a daze or horrendous haze
And instead of running off in a rage
With my energy God I must engage.
No one does like to lonely die
Have to wipe their tears all dry
God for me whose life He planned
It is Him who always will understand.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Governor Terry Twinkle ** ** not his real name (ha, ha)
Over us did sprinkle
Some clumsy, inadept sprinkle
How'd he win the governorship?
His opponent's racism he ripped
Now it's Twinkle
Whose wings've been clipped --
Appearing in a photo
That he shouldn't have ought to
In blackface beside a Ku Klux Klanner
We insist he resign
He responds with this whine --
To err is human; I'm not divine
Jenny died eight years ago, but her sister Terry never let her go.
She speaks to her daily, which worries her parents.
They have taken her to a psychiatrist, but nothing changes.
She is still here, she insists. They do not understand.
Neither has a drop of belief in spirituality.
To them dead is dead; no personality, no soul, nothing.
Terry plays on the hill in front of the pond as often as possible.
For it is there that she sees the reflection of Jenny in the pond.
Terry tried to cross the wall with one bound;
And had his two front teeth crowned!
Near his granny's house, a lake he found;
Not knowing beans about swimming, he drowned;
And gallons of muddy water he downed!
Not sitting quiet, he irked an angry hound;
Catching his calf, it got his muscle almost a pound!
All around, all the time, thus he clowned!!
Nursery Rhyme 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Date: 25-04-2022
Place: 2nd