Short Wishy Washy Poems
Short Wishy Washy Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wishy Washy by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wishy Washy by length and keyword.
he was a lost boy
back filled with wheals and scars
his escape rapid
horrible father
low wishy-washy mother
he never returned
If ever a genie should say to me,
“I shall grant thee wishes three. Choose wisely!”,
wealth, perfect health, and immortality
my choices might be. Maybe not. Maybe.
Feel wishy washy today, what could it be
Far as I know, I'm still the same loveable me
Maybe it's the weather
Knock me down with a feather
Guess I'm just a serious sun-loving devotee
the moon crossed
the Northern Lights floats
as the stars
crashed into the sea
Twas the day after Christmas and all through the land
Exhausted humans were reclining... couldn't stand
Putting salt in their coffee
Feeling all wishy washy
But happy to hear nastiness' forever been banned
To vascilate is never any fun
Either go with the other or the one
Riding the fence not the bull
Soon gives all a belly full
of Quickdraw McGraw with an empty gun
For wisdom catagory
Jul 29 2010 For John's Limerick contest
She was so wishy-washy she went to neither heaven or hell
Purgatory forever is where this listless lifeless one will dwell
She could never decide on this, that, them, he, she, or another
I blame her doting, spoiling family – mom, dad, sister and brother.
"EARLY TONIGHT, according to HEAR SAY, things got PRETTY UGLY when a SINGLE GROUP of HELLS
ANGELS became SIMPLY IMPOSSIBLE to control during an ALL OUT MINOR CATASTROPHE at the
MICROSOFT WORKS sponsored MEXI-CALI JUMBO SHRIMP Festival“.
(in a strange way, this type of wishy-washy lingo reminds me of our lovely National news)
clear-cut
it never was
always fell
within a gray area
even now through
out this estrangement
nothing is cut-and-dry
wishy-washy indecision
fills the space between us
fills the distance between us
seemly over at time but
then out of the blue it's on again
then it's off again once again
a marry-go-round that never ends
Because I must not always cannibal or bubble or haggard
like carnivorous animal like a brave vampire like a brave
maniacal rebel like a warehouse wolf?.
Sometimes imagine how mermaids is governing water
or is swimming thus to the world - a - the- stranging?.
Lest me lot or lol the stone unknowingly tis shard
though bogger?.
As a rose,
ever so beautiful,
ever so attractive
Perhaps, more so,
to wishy-washy,
whimsical wanderers,
than hearty-heady,
homeward-bounds
Drawn to your vivacious,
velvety beautiful petals
Only to leave it,
scratched and scarred
As a rose,
ever so beautiful,
and attractive
Perhaps, thorns for protection,
must you have
For MQ
Prussian Blue
Let me tell you a little story,
Of an artist that I once knew.
A proud adopted Yorkshireman,
Who only paints in Prussian Blue.
Landscapes wishy-washy
Water colours from life, but not true.
A pallet of so many colours,
But only uses Prussian Blue.
To some folks he is a Master,
To others genius through and through,
But I never rated him myself,
Because he only paints in Prussian Blue.
Ah, tomorrow and tomorrows!
A procrastinators’ catchall
future days that he will borrow
freely to do nothing at all;
but presently those days will dawn
calling due his declarations;
promises he’ll not keep thereon:
deliberate fabrications.
His wishy-washy character
lacks effectiveness and purpose;
his favorite word is “later”
which can be defined as fruitless.
Is there any hope for him? No!
as long as there are tomorrows.
The New Year has now started and we belong to new and exciting events.
I love, I laugh, I smile, and I cry with happiness for all the new talents.
The New Year is all we need to have a new start fresh with ideas to share.
And I hope for the better we enjoy the new poems and show everyone we care.
The New Year is a way to be wishy, washy, and to show we are human with feelings.
With that in mind we are ready to open the doors to the world that we believe in.
MURDER BE KIND
Murder be kind
Kind as a mistress
Intense as a fan
Doting as a bride
Flamboyant as a flamingo
Prodding as a detective
Wishy-washy as a drunk
Standing over a trap door
Shot
Stared down
Who killed the groom
Should we presume
Or do we get in line
With three-thousand excuses
The guilty one holds the ticket
Unashamed
And grinning
As he is revealed
He’s just-a-kid
A kid who understands none of it!
3/22/2022
A MURDER MYSTERY BIRTHDAY PARTY :)