Good poems
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The Lovely Figure
© Christakos Margaret
Kiss you on the cheeks, that double-round coital zone, the lovely figureI have loved over and over
/harsher sentences
© Christakos Margaret
Why parts of her seem missing (body, memory)but alsocolour shape fragance accent
The Triumph of Love
© Govinda Krishna Chettur
Dearest, and yet more dear than I can tell In these poor halting rhymes, when, word by word, You spell the passion that your beauty stirredSwiftly to flame, and holds me as a spell,You will not think he writeth "ill" or "well", Nor question make of the fond truths averred, But Love, of that, by Love's self charactered, A perfect understanding shall impel
The Wife of Bath's Prologue and Tale in the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 58r}}¶Here bigynneth the prologe of the taleof the Wyf of BatheEXperience / thogh noon AuctoriteeWere in this world / is right ynogh for meTo speke of wo / that is in mariageffor lordynges / sith
þt
I twelf yeer was of ageThonked be god / that is eterne on lyueHou{s}bondes atte chirche dore / I haue had fyueIf I so ofte / myghte han wedded beAnd alle were worthy men / in hir degreeBut me was told certeyn / noght longe agon isThat sith
þt
The Summoner's Prologue and Tale in the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 78v}}¶The Prologe of the Somnours taleThis Somnour in his Stiropes / hye he {s}toodVp on this frere / his herte was {s}o woodThat lyk an A{s}pen lief / he quook for Ire¶Lordynges quod he / but o thyng I de{s}ireI yow bi{s}eke / that of youre curtei{s}yeSyn ye had herd / this fal{s}e frere lyeAs suffreth me / I may my tale telleThis frere bo{s}teth / that he knoweth helleAnd god it woot/ that it is litel wonderffreres and feendes / been but lyte a {s}onder{{Folio 79r}}ffor pardee / ye han ofte tyme herd telleHow that a frere / rauy{ss}hed was to helleIn Spirit ones / by avi{s}iounAnd as an Aungel / ladde hym vp and downTo shewen hym / the peynes
þt
ther wereIn al the place / say he nat a frereOf oother folk / he say ynowe in woVn to this Aungel / spak the frere tho¶Now Sire quod he / han freres swich a
gra
The Shipman's Tale in the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 204r}}¶Here bigynneth the Shipmannes tale A Marchant whilom / dwelled at Seint Denys That riche was / for which men helde hym wys A wyf he hadde / of excellent beautee And compaignable / and reuelous was she Which is a thyng/ that cau{s}eth moore di{s}pence Than worth / is al the cheere and reuerence That men hem doon / at fe{s}tes and at daunces Swiche salutacions / and contenances Pa{ss}en / as dooth a shadwe vp on the wal But wo is hym / that payen moot for al The sely hou{s}bonde / algate he moot paye He moot vs clothe / and he moot vs arraye Al for his owene wor{s}hip / richely In which array / we dauncen iolily And if
þt
he noght may /
per
The Reeve's Prologue and Tale from the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
¶The
pro
loge / of the Reues tale Whan folk hadde laughen / at this nyce cas Of Ab{s}olon / and hende Nicholas Di
uer
The Pardoner's Introduction, Prologue, and Tale in the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 195r}}¶The myry talkyng/ of the hoo{s}t/ to the Phi{s}cienOure hoo{s}t gan to swere / as he were woodHarrow quod he / by nayles and by bloodThis was a fals cherl / and a fals Iu{s}ti{s}eAs shameful deeth / as herte may deuy{s}eCome to thi{s}e Iuges / and hir aduocatzAlgate this sely mayde / is slayn allasAllas / to deere boghte she beauteeWherfore I seye alday /
þt
men may {s}eThat yiftes of ffortune / and of natureBeen cau{s}e of deeth / to many a creatureOf bothe yiftes /
þt
The Miller's Prologue and Tale from the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 41r}}¶The prologe of the Milleres taleWHan that the knyght/ hadde thus his tale ytooldIn al the compaignie / nas ther yong ne ooldThat he ne seyde / it was a noble StorieAnd worthy / for to drawen to memorieAnd namely / the gentils euerichon¶Oure hoo{s}t lough / and swoor / {s}o moot I gonThis gooth aright/ vnbokeled is the maleLat se now / who shal telle another taleffor trewely / the game is wel bigonneNow telleth ye sire Monk / if
þt
ye konneSom what / to quite with the knyghtes tale¶The Millere / that for dronken was a paleSo that vnnethe / vp on his hors he satHe nolde aualen / neither hood ne hatNe abiden no man / for his curtei{s}yeBut in Pilates voys / he gan to cryeAnd swoor by armes / and by blood and bonesI kan a noble tale / for the nonesWith which / I wol now quite the knyghtes tale¶Oure hoo{s}t saugh /
þt
The General Prologue from the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 2r}}Here bygynneth the Book{/} of the tales of Can
ter
buryWhan that Aueryll
with
The Friar's Prologue and Tale in the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 73v}}¶The prologe of the ffreres tale This worthy lymytour / this noble frere He made alwey / a manere louryng cheere Vp on the Somnour / but for hone{s}tee No vileyns word / as yet to hym spak he But atte la{s}te / he seyde vn to the wyf ¶ Dame quod he god yeue yow right good lyf Ye han heer touched / al {s}o mote I thee In scole matere / greet difficultee Ye han seyd muche thyng/ right wel I seye But dame / here as we ryden by the weye Vs nedeth nat/ to speken / but of game And lete Auctoritees / on goddes name To prechyng/ and to scole of clergye But/ if it like / to this compaignye I wol yow / of a Somnour telle a game Pardee / ye may wel knowe by the name That of a Somn
our
/ may no good be {s}ayd I praye / that noon of yow / be ypayd A somnour / is a rennere vp and doun With mandementz / for fornicacioun And is ybet/ at euery townes ende ¶ Oure hoo{s}t tho spak / a sire ye sholde be hende{{Folio 74r}} And curteys / as a man of youre e{s}taat/ In compaignye / we wol no debaat/ Telleth youre tale / and lat the Somn
our
The Cook's Prologue and Tale in the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
¶The prologe of the Cookes tale The Cook / of Londo
un
/ whil the Reue spak/ ffor ioye hym thoughte / he clawed hym on the bak/ Haha quod he / for Cri{s}tes pa{ss}io
un
A Leak in the Dike
© Cary Phoebe
The good dame looked from her cottage At the close of the pleasant day,And cheerily called to her little son Outside the door at play:"Come, Peter, come! I want you to go, While there is light to see,To the hut of the blind old man who lives Across the dike, for me;And take these cakes I made for him-- They are hot and smoking yet;You have time enough to go and come Before the sun is set
"The Day is Done"
© Cary Phoebe
The day is done, and darkness From the wing of night is loosed,As a feather is wafted downward From a chicken going to roost.
The Annoyer
© Cary Phoebe
"Common as light is love. And its familiar voice wearies not ever." Shelley.
Fortuna
© Carlyle Thomas
The wind blows east, the wind blows west,And the frost falls and the rain:A weary heart went thankful to rest,And must rise to toil again, 'gain,And must rise to toil again.
