Pretty Woman Poems | Examples
These Pretty Woman poems are examples of Woman poems about Pretty. These are the best examples of Woman Pretty poems written by international poets.
She is as fleeting as the koi
twice as skittish
delicate and pretty
life has burned her
a naturalist, who loves Thoreau
a poet, who enjoys Coleridge
She dreams in color
a woman who has been hurt
To approach her, you must be subtle
honesty is the quality she must see at all costs
if you try to approach any other way
she will shut you out like the others
Next time around I will be six foot eight
I will play basketball, and I will be great
Next time around I will be born in a city
I will have confidence, not care if I’m pretty
Next time around I will not care what people think
My own opinions will keep my joy in the pink
Next time around I will be a star with an entourage.
People will lavish me with bouquets and a corsage.
She knows her own heart, wears it well, shows it off.
People want to be with her, she has groupies.
They cannot wait to see her, every year, at the festival.
She is the pretty one with a flowered headband.
She creates while others merely chat.
Her tools are busy, as she develops new products.
A Gemini, she is always busy, never still.
Her smile is a delight, her laugh infectious as the sun.
We do not know her name, it is not important.
She is fun to watch, many come to do just that.
She makes the festival seem worthwhile.
Many buy one item from her each year.
She is always delighted when people buy her things.
Pieces of her soul she has put together in wreaths,
Dream catchers, vases, wind chimes and such
She is a beautiful, modern, lovely, kind hippie
I should be committed she told us all
Friendly kind and pretty, she was a doll
Her sense of humor was all over the place
Gorgeous, she was filled with notorious grace
A plethora of suitors came to call
If you dated her, you would have a ball
She could read people and decipher their face
Thus, she spent her life partying, at her own pace
You're pretty
You look like a mountain
You're even good at cooking
It remind me of soju
If I drink with beautiful person
I don't even get drunk.
Poetry in motion
Pretty lady surfing high
A sight for sore eyes.
Dear Woman,
Don’t ever forget that you are strong and courageous in life
You are never less than any man and
you were not raised to be just a wife
You can bear children but that should always be your decision,
Invest in yourself, educate yourself and inspire a generation
Dear Woman,
You were probably the first lady in your family to go to university,
You were probably also the first in your community who stood up to patriarchy
You were always conditioned to break the glass ceiling,
So chin up , Head high and go get your deserving
Dear Woman,
Don't let a man break your heart over his petty lies,
Don't fall for just his charming words and pretty eyes,
Your man should be your equal companion who is kind ,
respectful and can stand beside you in this grind,
He should be honest, encouraging and not afraid of you spreading your wings
and loving every incredible part of your being, cheering till end of time rings.
How nice it is to
See pretty woman in the
Morning, in full youth.
.
ya know that
blood hot
that flush
az your face had the hot flash
that breathe
az
boiling strawberry preserves
directly
thick'd your nostrils
yep
the cutest
the
prettiest
girl
on the schooner
ask'd mine to
butter
hern
bare
Marcie is a delicate, pretty girl with pale blonde hair
Everything about her is natural, a hippie throw back
She thinks like her grandmother, which means she is open
to all kinds of people, and ideas; she sticks to ideals.
She has integrity, a quality we love finding in our heroines
The champion of others, Marcie stands up for the underdog
And the overdog, and all of the other dogs, wanting justice
She is explicitly exacting about fairness, sign of high intelligence
Marcie wears dresses, endearing herself to the ladies at church
the older ones with the peach, pink and blue dyed hair
They think of her as their granddaughter or grandniece
She would be a welcome addition to any of their families
She has no thought of settling down yet, she is young
And feverishly passion about going to a foreign country
She wants to help bring peace to the world
Feels she is the one to do it, and I believe her.
I’m Mz Mortenson, if you please.
I dispensed with the charade
when I went to my grave.
Life can be tricky
if you’re pretty.
My life was a role,
I couldn’t always control.
How unaware the dumb bombshell seemed.
Still, I was labeled the obscene Norma Jeane.
in reel life’s small doses,
the role was emotionally corrosive,
merely etching away my fragile identity.
In real life it proved erotically explosive
destroying my privacy, serenity, and sanity.
I thrilled in some 29 films, I took a few pills,
was a plaything for mobsters and tabloid mills.
When I started a fling with the president,
did I have any idea what I was up against?
Some free advice - beware of counterintelligence.
Homicide, suicide - what does it matter
- which one is sadder?
I knew I’d always be there for you, sensuously beckoning,
at 24 frames per second, like an eternal flame - flickering.
.
.
Of course, Norma Jeane Mortenson’s stage name was Marylin Monroe
Written for the 'Lost Poetry from History Challenge' contest.
Where you write a poem in the voice of an historical figure.
16:00.06-17
Beneath the fury of sun
Wades a wobbly nun
Stomping on thorns
Her soul burnt and torn
Scars on her skin
Carried wounds engraved
Trust, her sin
So were snakes she once craved
She sucked and spitted
Bouts of venom from her blood
Tainted by flood
Of emotions she once knitted
Silence crept loud
In the woods still stern
Moon upturns
Summoning weeping clouds
Tears unfolden
The woven maze
Outside the haze,
Lies a fern pretty golden
Threads, now vines
Adored her bruises
Illusion's penchant to divine's
Were flood sailed cruises
Time passed by,
Venom decays
Has been watching the sky
The fern now sways
normally I think tattoos look strange on women’s bodies
this time the tattooing looks like henna, delicate and pretty
I have no critiques, am rather in awe this time actually
I was going on a blind date, hoping it would be fate. I heard him before I saw him,I wasn’t sure what it was he said but it meant a lot to me.
Just to hear his voice made him seem so hot to me. Dark manly voice and well spoken, surely my heart would not end up broken?
He was suddenly right in front of the restarant table, surely he would be able to give me something ore than just his voice to go on pretty soon. Maby we would end up in a distant future in our honey moon. He startet to speak again and then I did not recognice his voice!
It must have been some other person in the resturant that made me fell in love with only ther voice? Well, the date went grate, must have beenfate. We soon married and had a child.
My husband had a friend come over one day we were going out to eat. That's when I felt defeat, I suddenly heard that voice again!
It was my husands best friend who came to babysit for us. Ohhh, the irony that he still gave me shaking in my knees and butterflies in my belly. Oh god, I wish I had not turned aroud to see that his best friend was just a dark voiced woman! That was the weirdest thing ever, I asure I did not feel rather clever...
i’m here, nor there, sometimes everywhere
a storm brewing
inside i’m darker
i’ve sailed these seas before
repetition becomes habit
take me back to simpler times
an early childhood memory
just one day when i didn’t allow myself to be consumed
by ruminating
i collect my thoughts
after time i realize the tea is hot, and it makes me anxious
and that i’m really just a hoarder
a collector knows what she likes to collect
to hold onto what’s fallen behind you can kill you
i don’t want to be stuck, but how does one move forward?
some days i wonder why i envy the pretty sunflowers
to be authentic is a destination
the shadow self wants to dance
the land though the wardrobe
i’d like to see it one day
I’ve stopped caring if the world likes me
with age comes a ‘no ****'s given’ attitude
red mohawk
punk rocker girl i don’t think about you too much
try hard, or don’t try at all
either way, the end is coming