Poems begining by L

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Leftovers

© Barry Tebb

Empty chocolate boxes, a pillowcase with an orange at the bottom,

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Letter To Michael Horovitz

© Barry Tebb

It is time after thirty years

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Leeds 2002

© Barry Tebb

What ghosts haunt

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Limerick: The was a Young Lady of Bute

© Edward Lear

The was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs,
To her uncle's white pigs,
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.

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Letter From Leeds

© Barry Tebb

Would ‘any woman’ find me difficult to live with?

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Letter From Kirkheaton

© Barry Tebb

I have no camera but imagination’s tinted glass

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Letter From Haworth

© Barry Tebb

Poems do not always satisfy the soul,

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Life and Art

© Emma Lazarus

Not while the fever of the blood is strong,

The heart throbs loud, the eyes are veiled, no less

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Legend

© Judith Wright

The blacksmith's boy went out with a rifle

and a black dog running behind.

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Look You, I'll Go Pray

© Vachel Lindsay

Look you, I'll go pray,
My shame is crying,
My soul is gray and faint,
My faith is dying.

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Limerick: There was Old Man in a pew

© Edward Lear

There was Old Man in a pew,
Whose waistcoat was spotted with blue;
But he tore it in pieces
To give to his nieces,
That cheerful Old Man in a pew.

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Little Marie

© Edgar Albert Guest

I  REMEMBER the day that you came to me,

Little Marie,

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Lincoln

© Vachel Lindsay

Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all,
That which is gendered in the wilderness
From lonely prairies and God's tenderness.
Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream,

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Love's Mesmerism.

© Robert Crawford

When you are with me I put by the world
In having you. When I can hear and see you,
All else is dark and dumb; or is it, Sweet,
You then are all, and I the dreamer know

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Leves Amores

© Arthur Symons

Your kisses, and the way you curl

Delicious and distracting girl,

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Limerick: There was an Old Man who said, 'Hush!

© Edward Lear

There was an Old Man who said, 'Hush!
I perceive a young bird in this bush!'
When they said, 'Is it small?'
He replied, 'Not at all!
It is four times as big as the bush!'

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Love and Law

© Vachel Lindsay

TRUE Love is founded in rocks of Remembrance
In stones of Forbearance and mortar of pain.
The workman lays wearily granite on granite,
And bleeds for his castle, 'mid sunshine and rain.

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Lines

© Joseph Rodman Drake

DAY gradual fades, in evening gray,

Its last faint beam hath fled,