Short Tidying Poems
Short Tidying Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tidying by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tidying by length and keyword.
I moved the shelves to clean behind,
Tidying my thoughts –
A sliver of lizard slithered out.
As I stepped aside
The lizard slipped in the gap again,
Its copper body
Vanishing.
<>
It is very old English word, rarely used.
Seeing her approaching, one gets confused
to rush around cleaning floor
before she knocks on the door;
For hasty tidying act - Scurryfunge used.
~X~X~X~
I love planting. I love digging holes, putting plants in,
tapping them in. And I love weeding, but I don't like
tidying up the garden afterwards. Jamaica Kincaid
***
shovel
near blue hydrangea bush -
latter rain
6/26/2020
Ten tiny trinkets,
Teeny tiny tots,
Treasuring the teey tiny towns,
Tidying up theire teeny tiny thoughts
Trendy traditional themes,
Inside these teeny tiny walls,
Build from teeny tiny people,
And there teeny tiny toys,
To think a thought,
Who do you think I may be?
A hint is for you,
Is nothings out in the blue,
Just for you...
Treading together through Winter, somewhere
between Autumn and Spring, we discover
suspicions brought on by our untamed pasts.
We stopped running in packs, long ago
tidying up our wildness with commitment.
And yet, memories of
our actual nature
challenges truth and movements.
Each other’s prey and predator,
we obsessively fear what
could make us stray...
away.
Her clothes have left her.
They have crossed the floor,
riding a camel train of shadows.
Tights have twisted to fleshy mounds.
A bra gawps twice, spine bent.
Shoes topple over drunken heels.
A little black dress climbs a chair.
A vision of him closing the door -
harsh parting words.
She roams the apartment,
picks up her strays, gathering together,
whatever yesterday wore,
tidying him forever
out of her life.
For once,
My emotion is simple and clear.
Love,
Companionship,
Trust.
I find you
Walking the path to my heart.
Tidying it up,
Making it whole.
Letting the light shine through my eyes.
A mere touch between lips,
Just think of the damage we could do.
You’re like a poison,
A poison that stops your heart
While in steady beat and pace.
Not desiring the future, but the present.
The pleasure of being lost in time.
Rumors swirl about the return of Ole Man Jack's bitter breath
that only he can breathe...
Lonely shelves and coolers line empty aisles that echo
Searches for eggs, bread, and milk are fruitless
Dark, grey skies hang as snow softly cries
Now the hunt for extra oak and hickory__
Candles are gathered while tidying comforters and blankets, too
Spring and her bright, joyful blooms are sleeping
But today, Ole Man Jack is awake with his heavy, bitter breath
Up at 7, too light now
Alarm goes and i groan
Too awake to try and snooze
So out of my bed i step
A bomb laid to waste to my kitchen
Washing, drying and putting away
Final touch wipe down
And nails get cleaned in the process
Finish tidying things in the bedroom
When in a side pocket
Two twenty rand notes from Africa
2008 and all the memories flood back
I shake my head as they float
Around my head and settle
six weeks with two gay guys
And memories never to forget!
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