#pears
A man I know up in Kincardine
Liked to spend time in his garden
And though it may be rude
His neighbor tanned in the ****
And the gardeners beet root would harden
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 5:33 PM UTC
🍏 MEAN GREEN 🍏
like a
🍏 GRANNY SMITH APPLE 🍏
as GREEN as LIMES,
EMERALDS, and GRASS,
FROG'S 🐸, and GRASSHOPPERS 🦗,
need you even ask!!!
GREEN like MONEY 💰,
a lot to be seen,
GREEN GRAPES, GREEN SNAKES,
GREEN, GREEN, GREEN,
GREEN WITH ENVY,
Don't you agree???
GREEN LIKE A SHAMROCK,
🍀ST. PATRICK'S DAY 🍀,
🍀 CLOVERS 🍀 are GREEN,
NO PINCHING ME TODAY,
GREEN was created by:
YELLOW and BLUE,
GREEN is NATURE,
VIBRANT
and TRUE,
If the saying
is true and
it does apply,
THAT THE GRASS IS ALWAYS
GREENER ON
THE OTHER SIDE,
GREEN IS DELIGHTMENT,
GREEN IS EXCITEMENT,
🍏🐸🦗🍀THIS IS MEAN GREEN🍀🦗🐸🍏!!!!
B.R.
Date: 3/8/2025
Mar 9, 2025
Mar 9, 2025 at 11:18 AM UTC
Pregnant Penelope placed
pealed pears in pairs in a
path which pickled preacher
Percy just previously pondered.
Pealing downstreet in a Plymouth,
he placed the gear down and
pushed the peddle purposefully
upon patent plush carpeting
PLOW!!
Poor pealed pears pushed
plumb with the pavement,
they promptly exploded..
Oh Please ! Pause !!!
Plllhhheewfff,
puke...
preposterous poetry should
be punished promptly with
proper penalty,
BUT
regretfully someone
will plagiarized such
pompous penning
Alas, THEY shall be known
for the **** they pass
in some preferred
publication,
which —personally— would
please the p*xx out of me...
"intentionally poor ****
© 2007-2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 8:11 PM UTC
"your hands are soft",
you say as you hold them gently
& although i have been told
this before,
you make me believe it.
your words are pear drops
that sweeten my soul
& pool in your palm.
your soft hands hold mine.
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 9:41 PM UTC
When I'm awake, I dream of pears.
I like to think of anjou pears because they remind me of the french word for jewels: bijoux.
I don't have a preference for red or green, I just dream of soft pears.
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 12:14 AM UTC
On alabaster ear lobes
Were two white pearls,
And to the sweet Marie Celeste,
Would sing the joys of the world.
She was born in June.
Loved to dance.
It's quite tragic, really,
That she was on that ship,
The one called the Marie Celeste.
A mystery never resolved, you see.
The pearls whispered the joys of the world,
But they never whispered the joys of the sea.
Pearls do not lie, but sing
On the lobes of an odd thing,
White pearls on white lobes,
Marie Celeste would only wear white robes.
The summer months were not enjoyable,
Marie Celeste hated the heat.
She was always the one who asked the questions,
And the one who died at sea.
If by chance, when under water,
You find a pair of dusty pearls,
Will they still sing, I wonder,
The joys of the whole wide world?
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC