Car poems

/ page 424 of 738 /

Order by :

1
. . .
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
. . .
738

Wavelength

© David St. John

They were sitting on the thin mattress
He’d once rolled & carried up the four floors
To his room only to find it covered nearly all
Of the bare wood
Leaving just a small path alongside the wall

I Am Offering this Poem

© James Russell Lowell

I am offering this poem to you,
since I have nothing else to give.
Keep it like a warm coat
when winter comes to cover you,
or like a pair of thick socks
the cold cannot bite through,

The Times

© Charles Churchill

The time hath been, a boyish, blushing time,

When modesty was scarcely held a crime;

Town Eclogues: Wednesday; The Tête à Tête

© Lady Mary Wortley Montagu

DANCINDA. " NO, fair DANCINDA, no ; you strive in vain
" To calm my care and mitigate my pain ;
" If all my sighs, my cares, can fail to move,
" Ah ! sooth me not with fruitless vows of love."

The Avenging Angel

© William Wilfred Campbell

As I rise and rise in the cloudy skies,
No sound in the silence is heard,
Save the lonesome whirr
Of my engine's purr,
Like the wings of a monster bird.

The Legends Of The Rhine

© Francis Bret Harte

Beetling walls with ivy grown,

Frowning heights of mossy stone;

Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle upon the Restoration of Lord Clifford, the Shepherd, to the Estates and Honours of his Ancestors

© André Breton

High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,
And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.—
The words of ancient time I thus translate,
A festal strain that hath been silent long:—

Spring In The North

© Henry Van Dyke

Ah, think not early love alone is strong;
He loveth best whose heart has learned to wait:
Dear messenger of Spring that tarried long,
You're doubly dear because you come so late.

The Slave Trade, A Poem

© Hannah More

If heaven has into being deign'd to call

Thy light, O Liberty! to shine on all;

Town Eclogues: Monday; Roxana or the Drawing-Room

ROXANA from the court retiring late,
Sigh'd her soft sorrows at St. JAMES's gate:
Such heavy thoughts lay brooding in her breast,
Not her own chairmen wth more weight opprest;
They groan the cruel load they're doom'd to bear ;
She in these gentler sounds express'd her care.

The Ghost-Yard Of The Goldenrod

© Bliss William Carman

WHEN the first silent frost has trod
The ghost-yard of the goldenrod,
And laid the blight of his cold hand
Upon the warm autumnal land,

The Props assist the House (729)

© Emily Dickinson

The Props assist the House

Until the House is built

Zebra

© C. K. Williams

Kids once carried tin soldiers in their pockets as charms
against being afraid, but how trust soldiers these days
not to load up, aim, blast the pants off your legs?

The End of Science Fiction

© Paul Eluard

This is not fantasy, this is our life.

We are the characters

Town Eclogues: Saturday; The Small-Pox

FLAVIA. THE wretched FLAVIA on her couch reclin'd,
Thus breath'd the anguish of a wounded mind ;
A glass revers'd in her right hand she bore,
For now she shun'd the face she sought before.

Absolution

© Edith Nesbit

He stood beside her, young and strong, and swayed
With pity for the sorrow in her eyes--
Which, as she raised them to his own, conveyed
Into his soul a sort of sad surprise--

The Oyster Schooner

For w'y dey mak' de fuss lak dat, an' nearly
broke deir neck,
Ain't dey got de noder oyster more better dan
malpecque
Or caraquette, dat leetle wan from down be-
low Kebeck?