Short Wears Poems
Short Wears Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wears by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wears by length and keyword.
Time, how much longer
Must we wait
Does she pretend
To dance with your or
Does she pretend
To be your friend
Time wears a mask
its the season
for reason
do this a that
a red hat
and cloth to bat
thats way its at
some us dres in pears
these
HOLIDAY WEARS
The red on your lips
gives me chills.
The red in my eyes
taunts you, it haunts,
the feeling it kills.
Yet, this void nothing fills.
Death wears blue
Hollowed eyes
Sleepy grin
Twisted mouth
Smiled at me
As her voice
In my dreams
Between his rattle
And her breath
Silently screams
You're killing me
on this day
cloths have a say
some bright
some white
some has a view
and very new
its a if its cold some have soup bold
dress like a bear
its
EASTER STYLES AND WEARS
Know this guy well because it's me
A writer of fun poems, I wear a goatee
Appreciate the accolades
You guys I'll never trade
You're the greatest bunch of bourgeoisie
Windy Wilbur wears white wet wooden whistles
weaving without wonderment within woods wisdom
where wily weather whips Windy Wilbur's whimsy
we wait wondering whether Windy Wilbur's whistle works.
Know this guy well because it's me
A writer of fun poems, I wear a goatee
Appreciate the accolades
You guys I'll never trade
You're the greatest bunch of bourgeoisie
© Jack Ellison 2015
Oh, how I cringe inside
when she wears her glasses!
Two with black hair!
Two with backpacks!
Two with Buddha!
Two with green eyes!
Now, two with glasses!
Is there any reason they should not
walk as two, together?
I love the scent of those
Crisp white shirts
Long or short sleeved;
Watching those button-fly jeans,
The way they sway in the breeze…
Oh yes, admittedly he wears them well.
Is he your beloved?
No my dear it’s my clothes line!
Fully aware;
Those sins fester within him,
He loses will day in and out,
Nonetheless strides on,
Life more meaningless than others,
His home is no home,
His life is lacking,
He wears a gold cross,
In memory of past sins;
So his future may prevail.
a woman's face wears many masks
her precious secrets to conceal
so a man may sit and ponder
if what he sees is truly real
he's a very clear-headed man
who takes his time and sets his goal
he's sure to see the masks diverge
as he taps on the door to her soul
morning meets a nurse of caring
for many years,
an aide who's burying
some unknown fears,
a neighbor's kitten
Nova left strewn
said--bury in--garden
where Pansy's grew-in.
life's roads all lives got
when life forgot and ought not
life's care for lives share
He Wears His Golf Cap Up High
His eyes throw comic arrows at his golf shot
Juggernaut after another, and a turkey trot
Double fidgets, a puppet swing
Slices and hooks on a string
Knees and feet wobble, his lessons went to pot
10/20/17
FUNNY LIMERICKS-Poetry Contest-DNP
who wears short shorts?
WE WEAR SHORT SHORTS!
four really pretty teen girls.
A happy singing commercial created in the eighties.
I was stunned by their enthusiastic joy and prettiness.
I cannot remember what they were selling.
Maybe panty hose?
But I still sing their jingle fifty years later.
C-rimson sun up above
L-ights up the Tuesday;
A-fter Monday night is gone,
R-aindrops fade away.
I-t's a beautiful birthday,
S-eventh February morn;
S-hadows have vanished,
A-nother woman is born.
G-irl with hair or bristles,
U-pper lip has in a flash;
R-apture is truly brought,
O-ne lady wears a mustache.
On a hot spring afternoon, a wet postman
Hurries down the sidewalk home.
I catch him stepping on a new white iris,
And were I not alone, I would but
Scold him, but I would not, instead,
I wouldst hand him a cold coke for his dripping head,
Then pat him on his shoulder and pick up a dropped letter,
On this unseasonably hot afternoon.
There's a guy I know that loots.
He often wears special boots:
Strong leathery ones he'd choose,
His feet in them starts to cruise
To break doors with non-helped feet!
Isn't that alone a feat?
Bruce should like to see rogues do that
"But feet later go flat!"
Means, then, looter can be caught:
From boot shop found straight to court
Truth be told
In every tick
Minutes morph into hours
Every tick alters a part of our lives
Wheels of change will halt not
Every passing moment drags us closer
As if we are ensnared in time's chains
Regardless of how slow one goes
Surely, like the clothes we own, we worn
Undoubtedly, it's with this flow we all go
So, let's embrace the fact, we are slaves
Poetry is like a prostitute
Wearing a tight
Pink flamingo skirt,
Red high heels, with
Black fish net stockings,
Standing on a street corner,
Waiting for the next customer,
To make a purchase
Man, poetry is a ****,
She hits you in the gut
While she earns her pay,
She put on the red light display
When she removes her clothes,
Then, poetry wears a mask
A girl can have more fun when dressed in red,
With killer high heels and a smile to turn heads.
Red is a color of deep, rich passion,
Not to mention that it is very high fashion.
She’s a flirt, and is as pretty as they come.
And with one look, she has you right under her thumb.
Don’t dismiss the memorable girl in red,
Because with her, you never know what’s ahead!
She wears unusual clothes, I think she is Bohemian
A witch from where? We wondered, a former nun?
She wore patchwork skirts, and tinted her broom.
Putting sparkles of light in the evening gloom.
Who is this witch? What is she about?
The cats are prancing, she’s brought some doubt.
Not one of us, we dress in black and gray.
Her loud bright colors are too danged gay.
she came downstairs dressed for the dance
her daddy could not stop looking at her over-the-top makeup
a wise man, he said nothing until she left
to his wife
She looked younger tonight than she has looked since she was six
his wife agreed
and silly, she suggested
They both were a bit gleeful
thinking how crazy she looked with all that make up
like a second grader
She has the color of
blue in the eyes,
is the color of happiness
days at heart ...
The color of peace in
countenance.
She has the color
from my paradise
in the tender smile ...
In her the colors of
ashes become
rainbow, and the
paths all
are filled with
colorful...
with her
spring is
always present.
She is my poem
purity white,
she is my love
multicolored ...!
The only thing to do is carry on
And be a light that shines bright in the dark,
Live love surrounded by a sea of hate,
Give hope as antidote to crippling fear.
Write poems, sing a song, make art, join hands
With sisters in a circle. Do not fall
In darkness and despair: this too shall pass,
And we will stand and raise our voice again,
And reason will prevail some better day.
November 8, 2016