Poems begining by F
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Fate
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
That you are fair or wise is vain,
Or strong, or rich, or generous;
You must have also the untaught strain
That sheds beauty on the rose.
From The Long Sad Party
© Mark Strand
Someone was saying
something about shadows covering the field, about
how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning
and the morning goes.
Frying Pan's Theology
© Andrew Barton Paterson
Shock-headed blackfellow,
Boy (on a pony).
Snowflakes are falling
Gentle and slow,
Youngster says, "Frying Pan
What makes it snow?"
Father Riley's Horse
© Andrew Barton Paterson
'Twas the horse thief, Andy Regan, that was hunted like a dog
By the troopers of the upper Murray side,
They had searched in every gully -- they had looked in every log,
But never sight or track of him they spied,
Fed Up
© Andrew Barton Paterson
And tramping with the Footies ain't as easy as it looks,
They scarcely ever see a Boer except in picture books.
They do a march of twenty mile that leaves 'em nearly dead,
And then they find the bloomin' Boers is twenty miles ahead.
Each Footy is as full of fight as any bulldog pup,
But walking forty miles to fight -- well, I'm fed up.
Frogs in chorus
© Andrew Barton Paterson
The soaring spirits that fain would fly
On wings of hope to the starry sky
Must face the snarls of the jealous dogs,
For the world is ruled by its chorus frogs.
Fall
© Jonathan Bohrn
Understand the language
of fall, approaching:
Cold mornings
drawing your bundled warmth;
Forgetfulness
© Hart Crane
Forgetfulness is like a song
That, freed from beat and measure, wanders.
Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled,
Outspread and motionless, --
A bird that coasts the wind unwearyingly.
Fear
© Hart Crane
The host, he says that all is well
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell,
But on the window licks the night.
Frances
© Charlotte Bronte
SHE will not sleep, for fear of dreams,
But, rising, quits her restless bed,
And walks where some beclouded beams
Of moonlight through the hall are shed.
Friends Departed
© Henry Vaughan
They are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit ling'ring here;
Their very memory is fair and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth clear.
From On Being Fired Again
© Erin Belieu
most notably by Larry who found my snood
unsuitable, another time by Jack,
whom I was sleeping with. Poor attitude,
tardiness, a contagious lack
of team spirit; I have been unmotivated
For Catherine: Juana, Infanta of Navarre
© Erin Belieu
Once you were a daughter, too,
then a wife and now the mother
of a baby with a Spanish name.
Fancy Dress
© Siegfried Sassoon
Some Brave, awake in you to-night,
Knocked at your heart: an eagles flight
Stirred in the feather on your head.
Your wide-set Indian eyes, alight
France
© Siegfried Sassoon
She triumphs, in the vivid green
Where sun and quivering foliage meet;
And in each soldiers heart serene;
When death stood near them they have seen
The radiant forests where her feet
Move on a breeze of silver sheen.
Fight to a Finish
© Siegfried Sassoon
The boys came back. Bands played and flags were flying,
And Yellow-Pressmen thronged the sunlit street
To cheer the soldiers whod refrained from dying,
And hear the music of returning feet.
Of all the thrills and ardours War has brought,
This moment is the finest. (So they thought.)
Falling Asleep
© Siegfried Sassoon
Voices moving about in the quiet house:
Thud of feet and a muffled shutting of doors:
Everyone yawning. Only the clocks are alert.
Firelight
© Katherine Mansfield
Playing in the fire and twilight together,
My little son and I,
Suddenly--woefully--I stoop to catch him.
"Try, mother, try!"
Fairy Tale
© Katherine Mansfield
Now this is the story of Olaf
Who ages and ages ago
Lived right on the top of a mountain,
A mountain all covered with snow.
