Short Wasp Poems
Short Wasp Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wasp by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wasp by length and keyword.
faerie
delicate, dainty
flitting, flying, dancing
fantasy, fey, real, threat
swooping, droning, stinging
stream-lined ebony
wasp
wasp buzzes her ear
and shows his anger to her
she has destroyed nest
she fears being stung of course
still tries to reason with wasp
Savvy wasp hornet killer spray
Feeling good it’s what I bring her.
Squirting a stream so far away
Grandma watch out for the stinger!
A wasp stung
my ring finger
Place of the ring!
My hand is double
Sharp acid pain
This is a sign
Oh, save me!
I am afraid!
Save me, Light!
mud dauber’s nest readily in sight
hanging out of chubby bird wind chime
if I knock it down, I will be attacked by wasps
anticipating their stings, I walk silently away
had an antique mailbox drilled to the house
darling and cute with an enormous surprise
If you lift the mail flap, you will know that I can be a louse.
Mud daubers will fly out and sting both your eyes.
frenzied mud dauber
porch railings are no longer
we are the killers
he bores hole in post
angry about the railings
what will they call home
will he sound alarm
will army wasps come to fight
dejected he leaves
what is wriggling under my bare foot?
oh goodie a wasp
hooray hooray
in the bedroom on my carpeting
lovely
I used a piece of cardboard and flipped it outside onto the porch
my puppy went after it
another life lesson for him
She is much sexier than the queen
The hive was all abuzz
This Marilyn Monroe-like wasp
Was the woman that never was.
The drones almost stopped working
When sexy wasp came into the hive
I think several of them passed out
At last count it was eighty-five
The sting of a wasp
Smacked me hard on the eyelid
Can't get rid of itch
Swollen, scrape is so awful
Wasp drove me nuts; I can't blink
Written: August 23, 2021
A Buggy Tanka Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
A curious bee and a silly wasp were stuck in a cup of pee
The two insects begged the old man to set them free
“I don’t want to die” cried the poor pathetic bee
The ridiculous wasp said “I am trying to flee, help!”
Hours later, two tiny poos were floating in the acidic pee
Pierced like a hot poker chip
plunging hard to the bone.
The angry wasp escapes
and I’m left with his lance
in my stubby forefinger.
Copyright © 2010 By Caryl S. Muzzey
First Place Winner ~ "Feel The Feeling” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Paula Swanson
May 25, 2010
A bee and a wasp came by today.
From the land of faeries truly fey.
They zoomed around my autumn flowers.
Bee stayed a bit, wasp stayed for hours.
Wasp asked me questions long and hard.
I told her everything, off my guard.
We became friends, that wasp and me.
Now I wished to better know the bee.
Orange yellow gyroscope
Like hovering above nowhere
Watching moving obstacles
Adjusting to wind gusts
Looking like it
Would pack a punch
Ever so carefully
It maneuvers to get
To the entrance
The hole in the vent
Has been blocked
By some monster
Called human but
It finds a way round
And enters into
Its hideaway.
Skinny miniature dive bombers commandeered my porch today.
Their command center is in the hollows of my porch’s railings.
I watch them wasp-stepping in formation
around on a tiny wooden table that holds two cans of wasp spray.
Now they are parading around the side of one of the green spray cans.
Taunting me with their arrogance.
Between the front door and me.
Wasps five. Me zero.
The wasps have a nest in my owl wind chime.
It is hanging on the porch, less than six feet from our front door.
I sat out there two days ago and watched them go in and out.
I only saw two, but I have been fooled before.
Sometimes when you least expect it sixteen come out of a crevice.
“We had better spray that!” my husband said when I told him.
That was two days ago.
I guess by “we” he meant “you”.
My energy I conserve,
Not for the guests seats
I have yet to reserve
Nor for their paid meat
I should carefully preserve…
Squarely for the nice treat
My boys deserve.
Their negligence I’ve grasped
And at it gasped
And hands of shock clasped!
Now, my voice to be a rasp
And my sting that of a wasp:
Welts to on skin break out,
Pain-enduring lips pout;
In drug stores no liniment
For their energy-backed punishment.
Oh dreaded parasitic predator,
I yield to your flitting whim
and unannounced intrusion.
Innocently productive,
you carry on your quest,
unprovoked and unassuming.
But for your merited renown,
I take preemptive action
testifying to my regard.
The sport of a cautious hunt
prompts instinct and evasion,
no match for a well-aimed swat.
And with your final writhing twitch
I find a kind of sovereign triumph
in my gleeful, gloating grin.
The Wasp and the Electric Light
He has eyes only for her
Who said love is blind??
Her glow draws him closer
For shes playing on his mind
His life revolves around her
He's waiting for an end
He doesn't mind murder
Unless his lover's will bends
He's spiraling, closer still
In an attempt to break his lovers will
And finally the little wasp
Is in the electric lights grasp
Before he learns to love
He must learn to die
Its like his woolen glove
Touching the electric light
Form:
I am sitting on my porch thinking about how everything feels muggy; I feel sticky. It is July sauna. Everything outside has stopped moving. Suddenly I jump almost out of my skin. A wasp has landed on my hand; the ball is in his court now. Whatever he has to tell me I will listen to as long as he spares my life.
wasp lands on my hand
my heartbeat stops in my throat
good point i tell him
Panic is a longing to live long,
Yet, a betraying of one not being strong;
All the way leading to a taunting song
From persons who panic judge a wrong;
Who when others duly panic
Unduly continue to picnic,
Honestly taking a Sinking Titanic
For a thing to its peril mimic.
But is one to panic or gasp
Or for that matter fearful hands clasp,
When one has seen not a snake
Nor the as rubbery but fake:
When rather it is some irksome wasp,
Whose clear differences we grasp?
I have a can of wasp and hornet spray on my desk
It says killer on it.
Do I feel guilty?
Not a bit.
Will I use it?
Oh, yes!
During the day the wasps hide out in cracks and crevices.
But when my computer is on at night, they creep out of their places.
Landing on my screen, startling me.
Like flying mice only more deadly.
When they land on my arm I have to resist the urge to swat them.
I have been stung before.
Most unpleasant.
I reach from the green can,
at the ready.