Short Watering Can Poems
Short Watering Can Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Watering Can by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Watering Can by length and keyword.
today was so hot
and my flowers are wilted now
I rush quickly for the watering can
pouring cool water over each
and like magic they raise their heads
This land of Mine
I have lived here for twenty years, olive trees
and brown, rugged rocks are my best friends.
Watering can and flowers in my garden, yet
the locals still refer to me as O Estrangero.
a filtered light strained and old
that hangs over us man crawlers
we are loaded with slow blood
we jaw-jaw under evening circles
empty as a watering can in august
up and up the garden, down down
we hammer the green into squares
as we think we may, foolish with dust
Fruitions seed is larger still,
get out your watering can
Fifty past one hundred years,
to shade what light began
Wisdom’s tree the hardest wood,
millennium to rise
Truth ingrained, its bark unstained
—transcendence once denied
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
noses together
open mouthed we kiss ...
on tippy toes
Pic # 2
hidden kisses
umbrella hideaway...
rain what rain
Pic # 7
rain is falling
natures watering can ...
lift face and enjoy
Pic # 6
splashing puddles
running laughing soaking ...
natures shower room
Pic #4
Pic#2. Pic # 4 Pic #6. Pic #7
penned 22/05/2013
There once was a hornet who tried
To build a strange straw nest inside
As soon as grass was cut
He'd bring to his little hut
To spruce up, but on water he rides
He tried to build his nest inside the curved spout of my plastic watering can. The first time I tried to use it after he started building, I got a shock when he flew out.
watering can full of fresh spring water
multicolored chickadee with a pretty song
spider keeping out of reach
bright yellow daffodils with ruffled necks
a fluffy eager bunny with the fluffiest tail
gorgeous purple and white African violets
polka dotted ribbons around gardening pots
a simple monarch butterfly with her eye on the prize
snores of a happy bumble bee
spring is around the corner
the screen door closes with a rattle
like a man trying to throw Yahtzee
despite the odds
shortly after, the familiar footfall of my father
calling ‘Baba boy, baba boy’ to me on the porch
I life my mug in reply, filled with hot coffee,
he fills the watering can with cold water
a low breeze rustles the fronds of a palm tree
father pours water on transplanted roots. it grows here
despite the odds
We were very close but never quite hooked up.
I think my approach was a bit too rough.
A little to honest for your fantasy...puff.
But the truth is I couldn't handle the wild swings.
The split personality.
What a man needs at the end of the day
is a steady stream of steady.
A half angel Wielding a watering can.
When the world turns to cold-hell fire.
I do hope that he's treating you well.
Listen to poem:
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the little girl, watering can in hand.
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the kitty cat, licking its paws.
Who's in the Garden?
Me said the puppy dog, wagging its tail.
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the snail, with poppy eyes on stalks.
Who's in the Garden?
Me, said the wee bird, twitting a tale.
Let's all join in!
Who do you want to be?
Who's in the Garden?
Who's in the Garden?
She is learning young
Pure genteel pleasures of a garden
Amid the fragrant roses and towering lupines
Sweet feminine echo of her beautiful mother
She holds up her watering can
A tiny version of the other.
Now she mimics to perfection
The sprinkling of flowers
As she giggles with delight
At birds in secret bowers.
She can't wait for tomorrow
Her duties to employ
She is mother's little helper
And Daddy's little joy
From wide garden beds little faces rose
To behold my mother’s face.
They knew from where their water came,
So gave to her their beauty and grace.
Though rocks and sand had been her plight,
Before wide rich black waxy loam,
Nothing stopped her loving hands,
Her garden was her home.
Somewhere in heaven is a greenhouse,
With a lushness ne'er here seen,
As mother with her watering can,
Humms amid blossoms’ colors and greens.
Old man wind pulled back the ocean waters
and funneled them into his watering can;
sprinkled them across the state;
over-watering every garden in sight.
A flood, six inches of water invaded my basement;
a three inch wading hole in the street and
a fortune in appliances and furniture was lost.
Afterwards he painted a rainbow in a cloudy sky and
started over again.
His tantrum lasted for two weeks.
Summer is ochre glass glowing
rainbow lawn chairs stretching out
fireworks are already blowing
fireflies are flashing about.
Black roses are once again parched
the weeds never seem to mind
that peace has turned into a watering can
with rusted-out holes in its side.
Vampire Iran is sniffing out Israeli veins
Xi buzzards are circling the lotus Taiwan
Putin is feeding on the flesh of Ukraine
Nuclear wizards are waving their wands.
the sunspots ensconced
behind howdy-do curtains
a cockcrow in lace
white watering can french blue
white sprouts of ivy deep green
unhackneyed eggs bright brown
the pale yellow sun flickers snow
and no one wears silk nightgowns
as knees fall, and wrinkles like weeds
are read on the backside of palms
that hurry the yolks and sizzle
the bacon, pour coffee into old cups
one for the geezer who grumps
but puckers up for his buttercup
Inside this journal
Secrets that have never been told
Never been shared
Never been spoken
Inside this journal
Years of memories
Living alone
Growing old
Waiting to be read
They are not to lonely
For they have each other
They share their stories with one another
Reminding each other of all the good times
Finally, the old journal is opened
Pouring out its secrets like water in a watering can
Then it is closed once again
Wanting to be opened another time
Form:
Our beds are often made of a tree,
spiritual creativity we carve for a peaceful sleep .
I once woke up and found a fire at the bottom of me feet;
I looked and watched for a while and thought it were a dream
I jumped up pretty quickly
to a nightmare it did seem;
I Ran to the kitchen looking for a Tin pan
I found me self a ready made filled up
watering can..
I Got to the TV and managed to turn it off;
I began watering me plants
Before the leafs dropped off.