Spinster Poems - Poems about Spinster

I spied a lass, prone in the grass Who wore a laced gown of white But as time passed, it didn't last Cuz she soiled it every night The men she knew, was quite a few She could always make them smile But in the end, lover or friend Wouldn't walk her down the aisle I declare, such a sad affair No one chose...

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The leaves dancing on the trees. The crinkling steps, the gusts, the natural silence. The unimposing mountains. Laze. Existence that validates itself. Ephemeral, cyclical, beautiful. An old distant friend that you may never truly know. I love you because what else would I do...

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The fire in her kindled, All too soon dwindled: Nearly in a twinkle That made her laugh a crinkle While her forehead described a wrinkle… Max’s disappearance shall ears tingle, For remain she will single; Alone with lover-fed pringle… Things haven’t been at all simple. And she’s beautiful, no face pimple. The harshest of prices for love in...

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Just pride and prejudice Had made her a spinster As life nowadays is Competent, hard, cold and cruel She needs to gamble her life For a brighter tomorrow To fight for women's rights To climb to the top Without the extra burden of a family And the control of a gentleman...

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I didn’t know George was an amorous lad, causing chat on the bush telegraph. I’d never heard George had done nothing bad, ‘cept splitting one marriage in half. George never delved into breaking the law, so there’s never a day spent in court. Not being wed, he’s a dull bedroom bore, well, that’s what one husband had thought. George is a bachelor to...

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Sinister Minister Who Was a Spinster once knew minister who we heard was sinister naughty and sinister Jim Horn...

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Let me emphasize why they criticise : Such boundless lassitude, lover hater. Paltry commitments get one scrutinized. On a questioning spree with that hipster. That hostile face, in joy or in sorrow. Merry miser, buy compliments as much O! Pitiful spinster, don't you borrow. Nagging like a meemaw, fretful as such. Why would you write a self...

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There was once an old spinster named Ruth Who was renowned for stretching the truth "Tho' many young swains wooed me, I could have married" said she, ...

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( bassey voice intro's).....signorina, signorina, is he hypergamy no, no, he loves me he really really loves me oh signorina, oh signorina might i spend my days loving you ( the malo).....honey, darling, sweetie love me tomorrow love me tonight sweet heart my darling lady my signorina love me tomorrow (femalo).....no,no,no! take your rags and leave i have separated us now you can leave ( malo).....no,no,no my darling i beg ye my lover i love you now if we...

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Eleanor. Who was she? A spinster. Quiet, aloof, alone. Well-known yet stealing away to the recesses of her singularity. An old maid. One who navigates through the motions of life. Solace or sorrow who would know? Sung to the world yet unknown....

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the spinster doling out her advice on love AP: Honorable Mention 2022 Posted on July 30, 2018...

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Your lonely years measured By other people’s celebrations; You always sat and smiled. You had your callers, The oil men, the plumbers, Big family men Who humored your weekly salon travesties While you stifled chuckles As they crouched and straightened, Butt-winking through their clothes. Later, the chuckles you checked echoed bitterly When the microwave rang you for dinner And you spotted phantom fingers lurking On your counter-top, And...

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With underlying arms well akimbo Seductively they glance at each other Smiles seasonally defined Amidst celebration in the bed of rose Gently they pulled their panties Preaching to one another amidst copulation The Bible too far from bed Humbly replaced  rubber cum metal None was Godly alarmed The Reason for the season ruefully undermined Where then lies the climax As ejaculation overtakes redemption Who will save the...

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One evening an old ailurophile strolled through a forest with her blackest of cats, To brood on her once goldenrod hair and the callipygous bottom on which she once sat. Her head hung low upon shrugged cathartic shoulders, In her crestfallen saunter, she sobbed in fear of aging any older. Passing with desuetude the felicity in each shimmering...

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She is a spinster Seventy years of age and still going strong. When asked why she never married, She whispered an answer: “Somewhere in the land I will never know my husband was aborted at the very hour and minute I was born.”...

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