Poems begining by F
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Faith Healing
© Philip Larkin
Slowly the women file to where he stands
Upright in rimless glasses, silver hair,
Dark suit, white collar. Stewards tirelessly
Persuade them onwards to his voice and hands,
For Sidney Bechet
© Philip Larkin
That note you hold, narrowing and rising, shakes
Like New Orleans reflected on the water,
And in all ears appropriate falsehood wakes,
Field Path
© John Clare
The beams in blossom with their spots of jet
Smelt sweet as gardens wheresoever met;
Fanciful creators
© Yahia Lababidi
What fanciful creators we are:
bestowing shock absorbers on cars
sprinkling tenderizer on meats
and stitching wrinkle-resistant shirts
Fear Not God Or Love
© Faye Diane Kilday
God is love and love is notsomething you should fear.
Respect love? Yes! Honour love? Yes! Embrace love? Yes! But fear love? No!
For when you fear love youfear life. And when you fear life whatdo you have but death.Death of all that is good and pureand wonderful in the world...In the universe.
So fear not God or love.For God is love and love is ALL.© Faye Kilday 2005
Four Score
© Sir Henry Parkes
I count the mercifullest part of all
God's mercies, in this coil of eighty years,
For One Who Went In Spring
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
SHE did not go, as others do,
With backward look and beckoning;
With no farewell for anything
She passed the open doorway through.
From the Drama of Charles II
© Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen
COME and kiss me, mistress Beauty,
I will give you all that s due tye.
Familiarity Dangerous
© William Cowper
As in her ancient mistress lap
The youthful tabby lay,
They gave each other many a tap,
Alike disposed to play.
Fleckno, an English Priest at Rome
© Andrew Marvell
Oblig'd by frequent visits of this man,
Whom as Priest, Poet, and Musician,
I for some branch of Melchizedeck took,
(Though he derives himself from my Lord Brooke)
From the Commemoration Ode
© Harriet Monroe
WASHINGTON
WHEN dreaming kings, at odds with swift paced time,
For yon oaken avenue, swain, you must steer
© Theocritus
For yon oaken avenue, swain, you must steer,
Where a statue of figwood, you'll see, has been set:
It has never been barked, has three legs and no ear;
But I think there is life in the patriarch yet.
First Anniversary
© Andrew Marvell
Like the vain curlings of the watery maze,
Which in smooth streams a sinking weight does raise,
So Man, declining always, disappears
In the weak circles of increasing years;
And his short tumults of themselves compose,
While flowing Time above his head does close.
Forest Of Europe
© Derek Walcott
The last leaves fell like notes from a piano
and left their ovals echoing in the ear;
with gawky music stands, the winter forest
looks like an empty orchestra, its lines
ruled on these scattered manuscripts of snow.
Five For Country Music
© Lisel Mueller
The bulb at the front door burns and burns.
If it were a white rose it would tire of blooming
through another endless night.
For A Thirteenth Birthday
© Lisel Mueller
You have read War and Peace.
Now here is Sister Carrie,
not up to Tolstoy; still
it will second the real world:
Folly
© Joyce Kilmer
(For A. K. K.)What distant mountains thrill and glow
Beneath our Lady Folly's tread?
Why has she left us, wise in woe,
Shrewd, practical, uncomforted?
Father Gerard Hopkins, S. J.
© Joyce Kilmer
Why didst thou carve thy speech laboriously,
And match and blend thy words with curious art?
For Song, one saith, is but a human heart
Speaking aloud, undisciplined and free.
