Poems begining by T
/ page 442 of 916 /
The Voice of the Lobster
© Lewis Carroll
''Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare
'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.'
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
The Lobster Quadrille
© Lewis Carroll
"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won' t you, won' t you join the dance?
The White Knight's Song
© Lewis Carroll
'Haddock's Eyes' or 'The Aged Aged Man' or
'Ways and Means' or 'A-Sitting On A Gate'I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged, aged man,
The Mad Gardener's Song
© Lewis Carroll
He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
'At length I realise,' he said,
The bitterness of Life!'
The Three Voices
© Lewis Carroll
HE trilled a carol fresh and free,
He laughed aloud for very glee:
There came a breeze from off the sea:
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat!
© Lewis Carroll
How I wonder what you're at!'You know the song, perhaps?" "I've heard something like it," said Alice. "It goes on, you know," the Hatter continued,
"in this way: -- --
`Up above the world you fly,
Like a teatray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle --'"
The Aged Aged Man
© Lewis Carroll
I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
To a Grey Dress
© Ogden Nash
There's a flutter of grey through the trees:
Ah, the exquisite curves of her dress as she passes
Fleet with her feet on the path where the grass is!
The Errancy
© Jorie Graham
Then the cicadas again like kindling that won’t take.
The struck match of some utopia we no longer remember
The Local Language
© Ralph Angel
The way she puts her fingers to his chest when she greets him.
The way an old man quiets himself,
