Children poems
/ page 172 of 244 /Mcmxiv
© Philip Larkin
Those long uneven lines
Standing as patiently
As if they were stretched outside
The Oval or Villa Park,
Toads Revisited
© Philip Larkin
Walking around in the park
Should feel better than work:
The lake, the sunshine,
The grass to lie on,
Ambulances
© Philip Larkin
Closed like confessionals, they thread
Loud noons of cities, giving back
None of the glances they absorb.
Light glossy grey, arms on a plaque,
They come to rest at any kerb:
All streets in time are visited.
The Song Of Honour
© Ralph Hodgson
I heard no more of bird or bell,
The mastiff in a slumber fell,
I stared into the sky,
As wondering men have always done
Since beauty and the stars were one,
Though none so hard as I.
Church Going
© Philip Larkin
Once I am sure there's nothing going on
I step inside, letting the door thud shut.
Another church: matting, seats, and stone,
And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut
The Whitsun Weddings
© Philip Larkin
That Whitsun, I was late getting away:
Not till about
One-twenty on the sunlit Saturday
Did my three-quarters-empty train pull out,
To Sylvia Plath
© Yahia Lababidi
Sleepwalking she prepared breakfast
for her still dreaming children, before
breaking fast, to satisfy her appetite
His Legacy
© Faye Diane Kilday
This is a true poem about a very special boy whose short life brought so much love and beauty to the world. It is dedicated to all the special children who bless our lives for only a short time but whose priceless gifts last forever. At an early age he started to
create beauty.
The kind of beauty that could
reach in and touch your heart.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 03
© William Langland
Now is Mede the mayde and no mo of hem alle,
With bedeles and baillies brought bifore the Kyng.
Coeur De Lion
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
I.
RICHARD the Lion-hearted, crowned serene
With the true royalty of perfect man;
Seated in stone above the praise or ban
Why East Wind Chills
© Dylan Thomas
When cometh Jack Frost? the children ask.
Shall they clasp a comet in their fists?
Not till, from high and low, their dust
Sprinkles in children's eyes a long-last sleep
And dusk is crowded with the children's ghosts,
Shall a white answer echo from the rooftops.
The Book Of Joyous Children
© James Whitcomb Riley
Bound and bordered in leaf-green,
Edged with trellised buds and flowers
Andromeda Unfettered
© Muriel Stuart
Nay, what do you seek?
If of men we be chained,
Our chains be of gold,
If the fetters we break
What conquest is gained?
Shall a hill-top out-spread a pavilion more safe than our palace hold?
Cliffs Of Scotland
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sixteen Americans who died on the Tuscania are
buried at the water's edge at the base of the rocky
cliffs at a Scottish port.--(News Dispatch.)
Humble home. But rum, and charcoal...
© Boris Pasternak
Humble home. But rum, and charcoal
Grog of sketches on the wall,
And the cell becomes a mansion,
And the garret is a hall.
Sonnet XXII: With Fools and Children
© Michael Drayton
To FollyWith fools and children, good discretion bears;
Then, honest people, bear with Love and me,
Nor older yet, nor wiser made by years,
Amongst the rest of fools and children be;
A Saxon Song
© Victoria Mary Sackville-West
Tools with the comely names,
Mattock and scythe and spade,
Couth and bitter as flames,
Clean, and bowed in the blade,--
A man and his tools make a man and his trade.
Weary not of us, for we are very beautiful
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Weary not of us, for we are very beautiful; it is out of very jealousy and proper pride that we entered the veil.
On the day when we cast of the bodys veil from the soul, you will see that we are the envy of despair of man and the Polestars.
Wash your face and become clean for beholding us, else remain afar, for we are beloveds of ourselves.
We are not that beauty who tomorrow will become a crone; till eternity we are young and heart-comforting and fair of stature.