All Poems

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The Wish Of To-Day

© John Greenleaf Whittier

I ask not now for gold to gild
With mocking shine a weary frame;
The yearning of the mind is stilled,
I ask not now for Fame.

November

© Robert Nichols

Oozed from the bracken's desolate track,
By dark rains havocked and drenched black.
A fog about the coppice drifts,
Or slowly thickens up and lifts
Into the moist, despondent air.

Our Life

© Paul Eluard

Well not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
We know in pairs we will know all about us
Well love everything our children will smile
At the dark history or mourn alone

Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine,
In those old days of the lost sunshine
Of youth-- when the Saturday's chores were through,
And the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen too,
And we went visiting, "me and you,"
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

The Towers of Time

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

(There is never a crack in the ivory tower
Or a hinge to groan in the house of gold
Or a leaf of the rose in the wind to wither
And she grows young as the world grows old.
A Woman clothed with the sun returning
to clothe the sun when the sun is cold.)

A Birds-Eye View

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

'Croak, croak, croak,'

Thus the Raven spoke,

To A Light Housekeeper

© Franklin Pierce Adams

These I mutely stand for
Though the sight offend,
THIS I reprimand for;
Take it from a friend:

The Hanging Man

© Sylvia Plath

By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me.

I sizzled in his blue volts like a desert prophet.

Sunk in melancholy

© Saigyo

Sunk in melancholy, and
Gazing
Upon the moon: its hue:
Why is it so deeply
Stained with sadness, I wonder

In The Harbour: The Poet's Calendar

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Janus am I; oldest of potentates;
Forward I look, and backward, and below
I count, as god of avenues and gates,
The years that through my portals come and go.

A Surrender

© Kenneth Slessor

WHEN to those Venusbergs, thy breasts,
By wars of love and moonlight batteries,
My lips have stormedO pout thy mouth above,
Lean down those culverins twain, and bid me spike

How It Happened

© James Whitcomb Riley

I got to thinkin' of her--both her parents dead and gone--

And all her sisters married off, and none but her and John

No Difference

Small as a peanut,
Big as a giant,
We're all the same size
When we turn off the light

The Ladder Of St. Augustine. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,

That of our vices we can frame

The City Bird

A city bird once in a desperate rage
Threw over the bars of his screen
The whole of the seed that was put in his cage,
And it grew to a miniature green.