Children poems
/ page 189 of 244 /
AN ELEGY Upon the most Incomparable K. Charles the First
© Henry King
Call for amazed thoughts, a wounded sense
And bleeding Hearts at our Intelligence.
Call for that Trump of Death the Mandrakes Groan
Which kills the Hearers: This befits alone
The Boys
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys?
If there has, take him out, without making a noise.
Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite!
Old Time is a liar! We're twenty to-night!
The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful "One-Hoss Shay": A Logical Story
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay,
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day,
And then, of a sudden, it -- ah, but stay,
New Zealand
© William Pember Reeves
GOD girt her about with the surges
And winds of the masterless deep,
August Morning by Albert Garcia: American Life in Poetry #71 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-200
© Ted Kooser
William Carlos Williams, one of our country's most influential poets and a New Jersey physician, taught us to celebrate daily life. Here Albert Garcia offers us the simple pleasures and modest mysteries of a single summer day.
The Missionary - Canto Eighth
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh, shout for Lautaro, the young and the brave!
The arm of whose strength was uplifted to save,
When the steeds of the strangers came rushing amain,
And the ghosts of our fathers looked down on the slain!
For Johnny Pole On The Forgotten Beach
© Anne Sexton
In his tenth July some instinct
taught him to arm the waiting wave,
a giant where its mouth hung open.
He rode on the lip that buoyed him there
The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts
© Anne Sexton
She's the one I carried my bones to
and built a house that was just a cot
and built a life that was over an hour
and built a castle where no one lives
and built, in the end, a song
to go with the ceremony.
Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall
© Anne Sexton
Oh down at the tavern
the children are singing
around their round table
and around me still.
The Toy-Strewn Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
Give me the house where the toys are strewn,
Where the dolls are asleep in the chairs,
Some Foreign Letters
© Anne Sexton
I knew you forever and you were always old,
soft white lady of my heart. Surely you would scold
me for sitting up late, reading your letters,
as if these foreign postmarks were meant for me.
The Division Of Parts
© Anne Sexton
1.
Mother, my Mary Gray,
once resident of Gloucester
and Essex County,
A Day In The Castle Of Envy
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The castle walls are full of eyes,
And not a mouse may creep unseen.
All the window slits are spies;
And the towers stand sentinel
A Destiny
© Caroline Norton
And his two sons in careless beauty grew,
Like wild-flowers in his path: he mark'd them not,
Nor reck'd he what they needed, learnt, or knew,
Or what might be on earth their future lot;
But they died young--which is a thought of rest!
Unscorn'd, untempted, undefiled--so best.
The Assassin
© Anne Sexton
The correct death is written in.
I will fill the need.
My bow is stiff.
My bow is in readiness.
The Child Bearers
© Anne Sexton
Jean, death comes close to us all,
flapping its awful wings at us
and the gluey wings crawl up our nose.
Our children tremble in their teen-age cribs,
The Evil Eye
© Anne Sexton
It comes oozing
out of flowers at night,
it comes out of the rain
if a snake looks skyward,
You, Doctor Martin
© Anne Sexton
You, Doctor Martin, walk
from breakfast to madness. Late August,
I speed through the antiseptic tunnel
where the moving dead still talk
The Moss Of His Skin
© Anne Sexton
"Young girls in old Arabia were often buried alive next
to their fathers, apparently as sacrifice to the goddesses
of the tribes..."
