All Poems

/ page 2592 of 3210 /

Order by :

L'Eau Dormante

© Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Curled up and sitting on her feet.

Within the window's deep embrasure,

Red Faces

© Gertrude Stein

Red flags the reason for pretty flags.
And ribbons.
Ribbons of flags
And wearing material

Visions for the Entertainment and Instruction of Younger Minds: Happiness

© Nathaniel Cotton

Ye ductile youths, whose rising sun

Hath many circles still to run;

Daughter

© Gertrude Stein

Why is the world at peace.
This may astonish you a little but when you realise how
easily Mrs. Charles Bianco sells the work of American
painters to American millionaires you will recognize that

To My Friends and Critics

© Julia A Moore

Come all you friends and critics,

And listen to my song,

America

© Gertrude Stein

Once in English they said America. Was it English to them.
Once they said Belgian.
We like a fog.
Do you for weather.

It Is Not Beauty I Demand

© George Darley

It is not Beauty I demand,
A crystal brow, the moon's despair,
Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,
Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair.

December 27, 1879

© George MacDonald

Every time would have its song
If the heart were right,
Seeing Love all tender-strong
Fills the day and night.

He watched the old movie unfold,
The head-covered man bashing his van into a building,
Nodding his head: Yes another one, they are terrorists,
The calm way he uttered those words
The look in his young eyes,
Made me ache.

Limerick: There was an Old Person whose habits,

© Edward Lear

There was an Old Person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he'd eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

Arabian Nights

© Nimah Nawwab

When the call of the hudud,
Echoes through the palm fronds
Carrying in their mists,
Visions, memories:

"Cease smilng, Dear! a little while be sad "

© Ernest Christopher Dowson

Cease smiling, Dear! a little while be sad,
Here in the silence, under the wan moon;
Sweet are thine eyes, but how can I be glad,
Knowing they change so soon?

Gentleness Stirred

© Nimah Nawwab

Hey, you there! thunders across the parking lot
You with the black boots the tone is raised
Oh, oh, reluctantly she turns,
Fear stirs,
Flinching,
Watches wrath unleashed.

On The Death Of President Garfield

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

I SEE the Nation, as in antique ages,
Crouched with rent robes, and ashes on her head:
Her mournful eyes are deep with dark presages,
Her soul is haunted by a formless dread!