Spinsters Poems | Examples

Butterfly Effects

Last night a powerful force
was juggled between ocean-going butterflies.
A little ripple in Bermuda
blew its lid in Indonesia.
People died and survived to be recalled
by the living in the morning.

Dreaming hands built beer-caves
for their foamy drools,
fingers raised hedge funds.
Ripples sex-blitzed
elderly spinsters with an erotica,
that made their eyelids flutter.

Personally speaking,
somewhere before dawn
I became a Russian novel,
there was snow, there was a steam-train,
Cossacks arrived, blood was spilled,
the dead fell asleep in my bed.

Table of Love

You wont need the table of love
What was meant to be
was put through the letter box
You truly broke my heart in two
You've lost your tears of joy
and lifted a heart of stone
like a medal of spinsters honour
See me through the broken rain
My misery wont leave me alone
I beg of you
for things that needed to be done

Age Gaps

Cranky crusty Codgers

Skeptical scornfully scowls

Youthful yearning Yonkers

Heartful happily howls

Spurned spiteful Spinsters

Graying gracelessly grumbles

Marvelous merry Maidens

Ravenous richly rumbles

Naked women Anacreontic couplets

next to fountain nude she stood,
a delight for all manhood!

her skin was fair, curls so black,
muscles showed down to her back.

her hands were on both her breasts,
smile was invite to the guests.

a few more girls kept her side,
not demure, their legs were wide.

there was joy and laughter too,
men milled around, stole a view.

wine with beer made men bawdy,
some old spinsters went rowdy!

nudes remained by the fountain,
sculpted stones from rock mountain!

nude stone sculptors are a charm,
why profane in human form?

Spinsters of Culture

Spinsters of our land
Spinsters of our culture
They are busy ants with
Domestic minds
Sisters of our land
They are our valued medicine
Of cure they are the root of our
Culture like herbal remedy
Spinsters of our land
They know the pride of our
Tradition for they are givers of hope
Like rainfall after harmattan

Old Women Are the Mistress of the Lust That Used To Master Us - That Boy

‘Old women, in the autumn of our lives
may wear the smoke of fires in our hair
be mothers, spinsters, prostitutes or wives
and still have merry ribbons from the fair
sewn on our skirts, and in our corsets laced
and all around our hats, and stockings on
We may be old, and not so sweetly graced
by beauty now our summer days are gone
but autumn still has leaves upon her dress
and berries from her lips to spill, it’s just -
(although we have our secrets to confess) 
Old women are the mistress of the lust
That used to master us.’  ‘Oh aye, you try’
That boy - his eyes are bluer than the sky 

© Gail Foster 22nd September 2018

Spinsters Should Avoid It

Spinster listen;
Do not tell others,
You are spinster,
Tell them this secret,
“I am a Spin-star
A shooting- star
A wonder-star
A humbling- star
A gaming-star
A tempting-star
A smiling-star
A crowning-star
A caring-star
A home-star"

Bachelors and Spinsters

Unmarried clays they are
dreaming to pair with humus
to fertilize fragile red soils
destined to become poor dust
for the joy of fauna and flora
to enhance earth’s burdens

The Toffee Maker

A poem l wrote after reading about the Toffee Maker in Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee.

The Toffee Maker

Lonely forlorn the spinster be
spirit broken, fell to her knee
she prayed to God for companion true
the Blacksmith listened, and then he knew.

'Please send me a man' he heard her say
for passion did float upon his way
for in the belfry he chanced to hear
the lonely spinster's pain and fear.

So off he ran to look his best
his Sunday suit for her he dressed
'so marry ME' the Blacksmith said
'companion be and surely blessed'.

So to this day the stories told
two lonely hearts from book of old
A spinsters plea in church had led
The Blacksmith heard, and contented wed.

Cartoons In Love

If cartoons were human
and were in love passions
many would be spinsters
in the land of bachelors
but none would be virgin

Garage Roses, a Rhyme For Valentine's Day

Bitter spinsters in their nighties
Wedding rings of bright pyrites
Unrequited youthful crushes
Unwise lusts, unwanted blushes
Teddies trapped in pink balloons
And endless loops of sickly tunes 
In the garden, badly hidden
Garage roses on the midden

© Gail Foster 14th February 2017

Screams From the Morgue

A life is taken each day, 
A heart is broken each night,
A soul mate is taken away.
Pain fills ones heart,
Questioning God why He allowed a tear to run through their cheeks,
But at the end it's not our will but His will.
Loved ones,
One day we will be with you.
I don't know the pain one goes through,
But I too have lost those I loved. 
I can hear screams from the morgue,
Young, old, married, divorced, 
Bachelors , spinsters, the blind, the dumb,
The less fortunate, the rich,
The powerful, the weak.
All have tears within their eyes.
It shows that we are human,
No matter what we face,
Always know that challenges come our way.
Birth is a gift since life is a miracle and a mystery,
But death is part of our lives,
It shows a mark, where the flesh wears off and dies,
It symbolizes a new hope,
Death doesn't mean the end.
So let me ask this question,
If you were to choose to live forever or to rest at the time, 
What would you choice be?

Deliberately Delivering Designed Deities

Twenty-three metres. An elephant leap. Vast leg spasms and sporadic duties to a tiled polished floor. Fire formatting finishing frames. And a pyrolysis of a purple strand of hair in a sinkhole waging war with a little flea. Never let it be said that a dynamic IP address will come from work as adjectives are not noted for complacency and judgement is formed from ordered shelves of peas. Lining up on the many shelves. In tins. Exact. Numbered. 00100 or 100900.000 is no name. It is no honour. It is a code. That is no way to treat and grow a core. Essences remain in a cosmically fired whirl. And goblin spinsters whirl backwards in moonlit flames. Flamenco feet then. Cha cha cha. How charismatic and charming. Radioactive beans. Hahahaha firing papayas' is fun. Hahahaha left angled triangular prisms. Deliberation z

Singlehood Status

Singlehood means an unmarried person.
For women, it's not easy, since
some of them are called Spinsters.
It's a temporary or permanent 
civil status.

Sometimes, life doesn't present
the opportunities to meet a partner.
In other situations, is a decision made.
Whatever the reason, is not a cause 
to be unhappy.

It has to be wonderful to walk this
voyage called with someone by your
side. But, if for an unknown
reason, it's not the case, be happy
with yourself.
Happiness it's a feeling that starts
inside you.

Finally, don't worry if you would find a 
partner or not.
If you have to live the experience, you 
will find him or her at the most 
unexpected time and place.
Meanwhile, enjoy life. It's only one.


Nayda Ivette 
9-8-2015

Seventeen Seventy-Seven: a Pondering of Sorts

This self evident truth that all men are created equal ?
Never quite able as to escape these questions which arrive
Time's comical in ludicrous exposes: today as yesterday imagining
Her high courts turning unto a constitution defining something or another....
Ever evolving his living breathing documents cross fire spatial skies skeleton keys rogue
Renegades watermark tinsel town, treason from their graves these founding fathers proclaim 
Antartic circles western worlds mediums her causeway's english channel I see dead people a baby's
Sixth sense the headless horseman thirty shekels of silver his broken bell premonition sheol's starveling
Shepherd spyglass mechants totem pole slave ship shackles spindrift spinsters who framed this, your amendments.

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