Short Turban Poems
Short Turban Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Turban by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Turban by length and keyword.
I design myself a turban of exotic fruit
To wear with my fabulous orange holiday suit
I wish I could find my other paisley green boot
To visit Gramps, an old colorful coot.
Hidden Face Man of Des Moines was carrying his steed to Derby Town.
It’s the oddest sight, agreed a jokester, a monkey, a duck and a clown.
Onlookers wanted to take a peek, for it is not a matter of course
When you see a man in a turban carrying a brown upside down horse.
Her glance intriguing
A simple pearl drop earring
Alabaster skin
Hair in a turban like wrap
Portrait of innocence
Girl witha Pearl Earring- by the
Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer
done in the 17 century. Movie
made in 2003 , starring Colin Firth.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Girl_with_a_Pearl_Earring.
In life
When elephants fight
A flower dies
So my son what they putted in your mind
to blow up me
the bullet isn't killer
son
but your hate
son
A terror
You feel shames
That's why
you walks in shadows
And hides in cave
And u wears this turban on face
hey my son
they pulled out
your heart
And replaced
with bomb
Hey shabab
where is my son?
In life
When elephants fight
A flower dies
So my son what they putted in your mind
to blow up me
the bullet isn't killer
son
but your hate
son
A terror
You feel shames
That's why
you walks in shadows
And hides in cave
And u wears this turban on face
hey my son
they pulled out
your heart
And replaced
with bomb
Hey shabab
where is my son?
That's my mom
Foot on running board
Big, black,1937 Caddy
Huge headlights
Spare tires in fenders
Cigarette in hand
Stylishly dressed
Turban and flowing pants
Big smile
Clyde's Bonnie never looked so good
...Great photo
Here she is again
50's drab house dress
Cigarette in hand
Expressionless
My mom
...Sad photo
Posted 10/20/19
I am a suitor sneaking upon her
or perhaps a light breeze upon her shoulder
exasperation or is it disappointment parts her lips,
simple indifference, unfulfilled hope?
turban undisturbed,
in careful turn from light
would be I the target of her stare,
the reason for embalmment leap
to me, to sit
on this Mauritshus bench.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
They have herds of sheep and goats
They pick dates; they grind oats
In the desert they always dwell
In the oasis they drink from a well
It’s hot, it’s humid, and it’s sandy
Scarf and turban may be handy
They see owl, they hear howl
And foxes for rabbits prowl
While in tents they sleep at night
In that God-forsaken blight
In the desert the dwell together
Tribes of survivors wandering forever.
There was a pithy art on velvety rock.
The turban was flying
churning out the outrage.
No sanitized verse was needed
to explain xenophobia.
We were white tigers.
Lurking behind the moon
was a lute, with broken strings.
A sluice opens the grief of sky.
Show me your palm with full
of curses. Where do you want
to leave the prints of death ?
Alphabets were counting the
steps, towards non-center. The
boundaries were collapsing.
Satish Verma
Purely perfect Puneri couple
Enjoying moments just supple
Oozing with Peshwa flavour
Of course the groom with his fervour
Steals my glance the turban of groom
With its looks just troom
May you have all marital bliss
In all thy moments precious
Would like to see kids mine
In such a Marathi attire fine
May you celebrate such events many
With no worries ever any
What a wonderful know you are in ..!
This surely gives you peace umpteen..!!
A courteous curtain
Looked thready with fine silk
Scenting of my core
Which led linger rose in my mind
And with no fleeing ticks
But almost ding-dong devotes
Potent day and night
Shrouds,when I come in
Shields,when I come out
Dripping that cotton every moment
For not to streets cowslips
To steal me from her role
Let I vocal vomits vociferously
"Am I boastful beaming as her turban?
Oh,I love you courteous curtain
For vile of my days"
Your helmet on holiday
While on a highway
Will make Accident Demons busier
And a lot to the Devil easier,
Either party to fracture your skull
For man’s most feared call.
Blame-worthy of you confronting a bike’s gear
Without donning its defensive head gear,
Suicidal, your cycling round the urban
While choosing to not turban!
Helmet dangling on a bike’s handle
Makes same its unlawful wearer:
Some silly, unlawful death nearer…
A barefaced lighting of the Wrong Candle!
First, I fill the tub.
Water must be just mildly warm.
I put on French music in the
next room.
Magnolia bath gel and a thick jade sponge.
Thick, ivory robe ready on the hook.
Hair in a coral turban.
I sit down and soak~ ah.
That sponge with magnolia,
it soothes my soul.
Tunes of Edith Piaff fill my soul.
Oh, love my bath!
A Parisian, divine, dreamy, soul
swirl.
Now, I am ready for the world!
April 6, 2020
3pm PST
I’m struck by the stark contrast
of her image
which leaps out
against a black background
Meeting the gaze
of her piercing blue eyes
I find her so beautiful
much more alluring than the Mona Lisa
A colourful teal and gold turban
hides her tresses
perhaps giving emphasis
to a solitary pearl earring
which skims the collar of her gown
Her enigmatic expression
hides a secret
Parted ruby red lips
are poised
as if to speak
yet,
they will never reveal her identity
Brahms Walz in A flat Major OP> Number 15
_____________________________________________
Bello, Bello
your turban has come
Bello, Bello
your Turban has come
she bowed her head in
embasserment
the fluted sound whistled
in oour ear
Bello, Bello
your Turban
is here
She wore her brothers pink headdress
when she heard of his
opponet
she bowed her head in shame
he marveled
and stood fast
and she covered her eyes
each moment
thinking her lover
would fall to the champions feet