Children poems
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Endymion: Book IV
© John Keats
Endymion to heaven's airy dome
Was offering up a hecatomb of vows,
When these words reach'd him. Whereupon he bows
His head through thorny-green entanglement
Of underwood, and to the sound is bent,
Anxious as hind towards her hidden fawn.
Endymion: Book I
© John Keats
This said, he rose, faint-smiling like a star
Through autumn mists, and took Peona's hand:
They stept into the boat, and launch'd from land.
Hyperion
© John Keats
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Die in shame!
© John Matthew
You hide your face in shame,
But I can see your private parts,
Have you no contrition,
To expose yourself, shamelessly, thus?
To my son
© John Matthew
Dont be a slave to the work,
Of smart slave-drivers in cubicles,
Instead explore the works of men,
Who have experienced the truths,
And distilled in their words, wisdoms,
Which may grate your ears now.
Time Stands Still over Govandi Station
© John Matthew
A kite flutters,
On a high tension wire
Against a stark blue sky.
Beggar and old mother huddle
On Govandi Railway Station
The dirtiest station in the universe.
The Ballad of Persse O'Reilly
© James Joyce
Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty
How he fell with a roll and a rumble
And curled up like Lord Olofa Crumple
By the butt of the Magazine Wall,
(Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
Hump, helmet and all?
Frist Poem
© Peter Orlovsky
A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified.
Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills
the air.
I look for my shues under my bed.
The Church On Comiaken Hill
© Richard Hugo
for Sydney PettitThe lines are keen against today's bad sky
about to rain. We're white and understand
why Indians sold butter for the funds
to build this church. Four hens and a rooster
When the Dark Comes Down
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
When the dark comes down, oh, the wind is on the sea
With lisping laugh and whimper to the red reef's threnody,
The boats are sailing homeward now across the harbor bar
With many a jest and many a shout from fishing grounds afar.
So furl your sails and take your rest, ye fisher folk so brown,
For task and quest are ended when the dark comes down.
The Old Home Calls
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
Come back to me, little dancing feet that roam the wide world o'er,
I long for the lilt of your flying steps in my silent rooms once more;
Come back to me, little voices gay with laughter and with song,
Come back, little hearts beating high with hopes, I have missed and mourned you long.
The Hill Maples
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
Here on a hill of the occident stand we shoulder to shoulder,
Comrades tried and true through a mighty swath of the years!
Spring harps glad laughter through us, and ministrant rains of the autumn
Sing us again the songs of ancient dolor and tears.
The Call of the Winds
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
Ho, when the wind of autumn rings
Through jubilant mornings crisp and golden,
Come where the yellow woodland flings
Its hoarded wealth over by-ways olden.
Mine are the grasses frosted and sere,
One of the Shepherds
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
There on the straw the mother lay
Wan and white,
But her look was so holy and rapt and mild
That it seemed to shed a marvellous light,
Faint as the first rare gleam of day,
Around the child.
In an Old Farmhouse
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
Outside the afterlight's lucent rose
Is smiting the hills and brimming the valleys,
And shadows are stealing across the snows;
From the mystic gloom of the pineland alleys.
Fancies
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
Surely the flowers of a hundred springs
Are simply the souls of beautiful things! The poppies aflame with gold and red
Were the kisses of lovers in days that are fled. The purple pansies with dew-drops pearled
Were the rainbow dreams of a youngling world. The lily, white as a star apart,
Down Stream
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
Comrades, up! Let us row down stream in this first rare dawnlight,
While far in the clear north-west the late moon whitens and wanes;
Before us the sun will rise, deep-purpling headland and islet,
It is well to meet him thus, with the life astir in our veins!
Landscapes
© Andree Chedid
Behind faces and gestures
We remain mute
And spoken words heavy
With what we ignore or keep silent
Betray us
Take This Waltz
© Leonard Cohen
(After Lorca)
Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women.
There's a shoulder where death comes to cry.
Story Of Isaac
© Leonard Cohen
The door it opened slowly,
my father he came in,
I was nine years old.
And he stood so tall above me,
