Poems begining by L
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Lines To R. L.
© Henry Timrod
That which we are and shall be is made up
Of what we have been. On the autumn leaf
Limerick:There was an Old Man with a owl
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man with a owl,
Who continued to bother and howl;
He sat on a rail
And imbibed bitter ale,
Which refreshed that Old Man and his owl.
Laus Deo
© John Greenleaf Whittier
It is done!
Clang of bell and roar of gun
Send the tidings up and down.
How the belfries rock and reel!
How the great guns, peal on peal,
Fling the joy from town to town!
Love-Children
© Robinson Jeffers
The trails high up on the ridge, no one goes down
But the east wind and the falling water the concave slope without a name to the little bay
Lord William
© Robert Southey
No eye beheld when William plunged
Young Edmund in the stream,
No human ear but William's heard
Young Edmund's drowning scream.
Light Is More Important Than The Lantern
© Nizar Qabbani
Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook,
And the kiss more important than the lips.
My letters to you
L'Eau Dormante
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Curled up and sitting on her feet.
Within the window's deep embrasure,
Limerick: There was an Old Person whose habits,
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he'd eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.
Lit Instructor
© William Stafford
Day after day up there beating my wings
with all the softness truth requires
I feel them shrug whenever I pause:
they class my voice among tentative things,
Lives
© Arthur Rimbaud
I remember silver hours and sunlight by the rivers,
the hand of the country on my shoulder
and our carresses standing on the spicy plains.--
A flight of scarlet pigeons thunders round my thoughts.
Love Lives Beyond The Tomb
© John Clare
Love lives beyond
The tomb, the earth, which fades like dew-
Late Love
© Jackie Kay
How they strut about, people in love,
How tall they grow, pleased with themselves,
Their hair, glossy, their skin shining.
They don't remember who they have been.
La Vie de Boheme
© Amy Lowell
Alone, I whet my soul against the keen
Unwrinkled sky, with its long stretching blue.
Leave Me, O Love Which Reachest But To Dust
© Sir Philip Sidney
Leave me, O love which reachest but to dust,
And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things;
Grow rich in that which never taketh rust:
Whatever fades but fading pleasure brings.
Loving In Truth, And Fain In Verse My Love To Show
© Sir Philip Sidney
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That She, dear She, might take some pleasure of my pain,
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain
Lincoln
© John Gould Fletcher
Like a gaunt, scraggly pine
Which lifts its head above the mournful sandhills;
And patiently, through dull years of bitter silence,
Untended and uncared for, starts to grow.
Labor Day
© Louise Gluck
Requiring something lovely on his arm
Took me to Stamford, Connecticut, a quasi-farm,
His family's; later picking up the mammoth
Girlfriend of Charlie, meanwhile trying to pawn me off
Limerick: There was an Old Man of Peru
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he tore off his hair,
And behaved like a bear,
That intrinsic Old Man of Peru.
