Poems begining by F
/ page 103 of 107 /For Jane
© Charles Bukowski
when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.
For Jane: With All The Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough
© Charles Bukowski
I pick up the skirt,
I pick up the sparkling beads
in black,
this thing that moved once
Fugue
© Howard Nemerov
You see them vanish in their speeding cars,
The many people hastening through the world,
And wonder what they would have done before
This time of time speed distance, random streams
Of molecules hastened by what rising heat?
Was there never a world where people just sat still?
Fata Morgana
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O sweet illusions of song
That tempt me everywhere,
In the lonely fields, and the throng
Of the crowded thoroughfare!
Flowers
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Footsteps of Angels
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;
Foster The Light
© Dylan Thomas
Foster the light nor veil the manshaped moon,
Nor weather winds that blow not down the bone,
But strip the twelve-winded marrow from his circle;
Master the night nor serve the snowman's brain
That shapes each bushy item of the air
Into a polestar pointed on an icicle.
From Love's First Fever To Her Plague
© Dylan Thomas
From the first print of the unshodden foot, the lifting
Hand, the breaking of the hair,
From the first scent of the heart, the warning ghost,
And to the first dumb wonder at the flesh,
The sun was red, the moon was grey,
The earth and sky were as two mountains meeting.
Fern Hill
© Dylan Thomas
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Further in Summer than the Birds
© Emily Dickinson
Further in Summer than the Birds
Pathetic from the Grass
A minor Nation celebrates
Its unobtrusive Mass.
Funny -- to be a Century
© Emily Dickinson
Funny -- to be a Century --
And see the People -- going by --
I -- should die of the Oddity --
But then -- I'm not so staid -- as He --
From Us She wandered now a Year,
© Emily Dickinson
From Us She wandered now a Year,
Her tarrying, unknown,
If Wilderness prevent her feet
Or that Ethereal Zone
From his slim Palace in the Dust
© Emily Dickinson
From his slim Palace in the Dust
He relegates the Realm,
More loyal for the exody
That has befallen him.
From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
© Emily Dickinson
From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged -- a Summer Afternoon --
Repairing Everywhere --
From all the Jails the Boys and Girls
© Emily Dickinson
From all the Jails the Boys and Girls
Ecstatically leap --
Beloved only Afternoon
That Prison doesn't keep
Frigid and sweet Her parting Face --
© Emily Dickinson
Frigid and sweet Her parting Face --
Frigid and fleet my Feet --
Alien and vain whatever Clime
Acrid whatever Fate.
Four Trees -- upon a solitary Acre --
© Emily Dickinson
Four Trees -- upon a solitary Acre --
Without Design
Or Order, or Apparent Action --
Maintain --
Fortitude incarnate
© Emily Dickinson
Fortitude incarnate
Here is laid away
In the swift Partitions
Of the awful Sea --
Forget! The lady with the Amulet
© Emily Dickinson
Forget! The lady with the Amulet
Forget she wore it at her Heart
Because she breathed against
Was Treason twixt?