Pantsuit Poems

An Ode To The Pantsuit!

These Poems (and I use the term very loosely indeed) were written for a friend, while she was away simply to make her laugh. An Ode To The pantsuit is a poem is three parts about … trouser suit.

An Ode To The Pantsuit (part One)

While walking the other day,
A little wayward I did stray,
Into a shop with a display,
Of pantsuits oh so gay!
One in particular caught my eye,
As I went to walk on by,
For it was silver like a trout,
And seemed to simply shout,
“I’M A PANTSUIT TRY ME OUT!”

To the changing room I did hurry,
And put it on in a flurry,
There I stood before the glass,
Stock still as time did pass,
The pantsuit fitted like a glove,
And with a blouse grey as a dove,
The whole look was sophisticated,
Though the fastenings were complicated,
My mind made up I was to buy,
This garment so truly divine,
A princely sum did I lay down,
To secure this suit of silver brown,

I left the shop so very content,
And around the corner I then went,
I hastened home to change my look,
But when my hair from its bun I shook,
I looked on in great despair,
For all at once I was aware,
My suit did not go with my hair!

Shiny locks down my back do fall,
Covering shoulders collar and all,
The suit could always be returned,
But this notion I quickly spurned,
There was only one way to mend,
Such a disastrous lack of trend,
The sales ticket I did sever,
And ran from the house faster than ever,
At the hairdressers I soon arrived,
“Cut it off!” I cried to their surprise,
For my hair was my one true beauty,
And always smells rather fruity,
“Gamine, I think the look is called!”
Though the stylist seemed quite appalled,
“I want it gone!” I clearly said,
So they chopped and hacked it from my head,
My hair gone, I see myself,
A boyish pixie like an elf,
My suit and hair both short and sleek,
passers-by can’t help but peek,
I do not think I go too far,
To say that My pantsuit is charmed,
So now when I go to bed,
Pillow against my balded head,
I see my suit in pride of place,
Collar velvet sleeves of lace,
And I think “My, that suit has grace!”

 

An Ode To The Pantsuit (part Two)
It is my fourth consecutive week,
Of wearing my pantsuit oh so sleek,
Every day I put it on,
And how the material has shone,
Tis brighter than the glowing stars,
And can be seen for miles afar,
However as I dress this morning,
I notice a great deal of rain is falling,
I cannot bear my suit to get,
Absolutely soaking wet,
So an anorak is my safest bet,
I pull such a one from my clothing drawer,
Though covering my suit seems such a bore,
My hair still cropped short and flat,
I hide beneath a bakers boy hat,
Atop my head I do plant,
My cap at a jaunty slant.

With all haste I do proceed,
Into the street with utmost speed,
For I have things that I must do,
And certain roads I must pursue,
However as I reach my first destination,
I feel a wave of desperation,
For there is a queue so very long,
Of people waiting in great throngs,
I shall never reach the end of it,
Defeated, the line I wish to quit,
When an idea comes to me,
I am quite overcome with glee.

In one fell swoop do I cast off,
My anorak of heavy cloth,
I throw my coat and cap,
To a passing idiotic chap,
Once more in my suit I stand,
Authoritatively I wave my hand,
The crowd parts like the dead sea,
As they admire the suit that robes me,
I dance and twirl my way between,
The lowly peasants like a queen,
I’m like Frodo with the ring,
I shan’t be stopped by anything,
I repeat this each time there is a crowd,
On occasions some have bowed,
As they see my suit so mighty,
Glittering so very brightly,
For no one can help but adore,
My pantsuit, Pantsuits, PANTSUITS GALORE!!

 

An Ode To The Pantsuit (Part Three)

It was the day of all that rain,
That my Pantsuit’s life was claimed,
A greyish light was in the sky,
But all was now becoming dry,
though puddles lay hither and thither.
Fortunately I need no longer dither,
when deciding what to wear,
Or how to style my shaven hair,
For My pantsuit is always there!!

It is the essence of pulchritude,
Yes I know that word sounds rude,
But it means beauty according to,
My thesaurus, so it must be true,
On the page it looks its best,
next to its synonym handsomeness,
Now back to my tale for I have ambled,
Into completely irrelevant ramble,
I was ready in a trice,
Having looked in the mirror once, twice …thrice,

I scampered out into the street,
Eager to find people to meet,
As I strut along the road,
my reflection, in a shop window showed,
I wish I had not taken the chance,
To allow a self appreciative glance,
Of my suit in such an elegant stance,
But temptation was too much for me,
I turned my head in order to see,
my suit and hair more clearly,

If my attention I had not diverted,
Then disaster I might have averted,
I might have seen the large taxi,
Were I not consumed by Vanity!!
To the edge of the pavement my feet went,
But on my reflection my eyes were bent,
The taxi was almost upon me,
Before I had time to fully see …

The dark puddle on the floor,
into which oil had poured,
The liquid lay thick and black,
Simply laying in the taxi’s track,
Had I seen it I would have stepped back,
But to late, the wheel was through,
Into the air the sludge it threw.

It fell back down so very quick
that ghastly smelly oily slick,
Down on my suit and hair it rained,
As though the taxi driver had precisely aimed,
It covered me from head to toe,
that tarry mulch black as a crow,
Causing such great sorry woe,

My suit no longer silvery brown,
As muck dripped slowly grimly down,
Soaking through Velvet and lace,
and covering cropped hair and face,
I was clasped in its oily embrace,
The suit which once my wardrobe crowned,
In greasy sticky mess had drowned,
Such fine couture I could not save,
As I recall with feelings grave,
What the sales assistant had shown me,
A label that read “DRY CLEAN ONLY!!”

The Ode To My Thesaurus

I was given a thesaurus (among other things) for my birthday one year and got completely carried away! It was was originally written as a joke fore for a friend, luckily she liked it.

An Ode The Thesaurus (And A Friend)!!

How I love my thesaurus,
Tis always by my side,
When on the perfect word,
I’m trying to decide,

One can take a boring word,
Quite insignificant and plain,
And replace it with better one,
Time and Time again,

For instance if I were to say,
You really are so fine,
According to that worthy book,
you’re exquisite, accomplished and divine!

When I wish to compliment a friend,
As paradaisacle as yourself,
I simply predestine to pluck,
This volume from my shelf,

It is also most invaluable,
When I compose a rhyme,
For words that sound alike,
Are unfathomably hard to find.

I am relieved of so much strain,
When one word can be another,
The other day I struggled until …
Sibling became BROTHER!

Or when one writes an essay,
And unequivocally must sound smart,
Appellations like locution,
Set one’s intellect apart.

Mine sits open on my desk,
As this lyric poesy I compose,
Replacing the subsidiary words,
That I originally chose.

Allow me to use it now,
To express my friendship with you,
For that is (I suspect),
What my thesaurus wants to do.

How do I love thee?
Let me LIST the ways,
Love – Vern = Adore, Treasure, Cherish, Worship,
Idolise and Adulate,
And shall continue to do so for innumerable more days!

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