Pet poems

/ page 1 of 126 /

Order by :

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
. . .
126

Ii. Legend

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

THERE lived in the desert a holy man

To whom a goat-footed Faun one day

The Emigrants: Book II

© Charlotte Turner Smith

Scene, on an Eminence on one of those Downs, which afford to the South a view of the Sea; to the North of the Weald of Sussex. Time, an Afternoon in April, 1793.

Song of the Lotos-Eaters

© Alfred Tennyson

THERE is sweet music here that softer falls

Than petals from blown roses on the grass,

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 105. To-night ungather'd let us leave

© Alfred Tennyson

Let cares that petty shadows cast,
By which our lives are chiefly proved,
A little spare the night I loved,
And hold it solemn to the past.

Alfred Lord Tennyson - The Coming Of Arthur

© Alfred Tennyson

Leodogran, the King of Cameliard,
Had one fair daughter, and none other child;
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,
Guinevere, and in her his one delight.

Spring Beauties

© Ruth Stone

The abandoned campus,

empty brick buildings and early June

Weirdos

© Sasha Skenderija

Deep and unreachable in their darknesses,
capriciously childish and tender
when we write to each other,
while we talk about one of us
who is not around.

Astrophel and Stella: XV

© Sir Philip Sidney

You that do search for every purling spring

Which from the ribs of old Parnassus flows,

Astrophel and Stella

© Sir Philip Sidney

Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.

The Gazelle

© Rainer Maria Rilke

Enchanted thing: how can two chosen words
ever attain the harmony of pure rhyme
that pulses through you as your body stirs?
Out of your forehead branch and lyre climb

Snapshots of a Daughter-In-Law

You, once a belle in Shreveport,
with henna-colored hair, skin like a peachbud,
still have your dresses copied from that time,
and play a Chopin prelude
called by Cortot: "Delicious recollections
float like perfume through the memory."

Song of Sorrow

© Olu Oguibe

I shall sing you a song of
Sorrow when the moment comes.
It is the way of poets.

I am bound to this Land by blood

© Olu Oguibe

I have cried so often with broken men
And peered into a million faces blank
Faces without bodies bodies without faces
The owners of nothing breakers of stone
The owners who are owned I have known them all