Poems begining by T
/ page 568 of 916 /
The Glass Jar
© Gwen Harwood
Wrapped in a scarf his monstrance stood
ready to bless, to exorcize
monsters that whispering would rise
nightly from the intricate wood
that ringed his bed, to light with total power
the holy commonplace of field and flower.
To R. - at Anzac
© Aubrey Herbert
You left your vineyards, dreaming of the vines in a dream land
And dim Italian cities where high cathedrals stand.
At Anzac in the evening, so many things we planned,
And now you sleep with comrades in the Anafarta sand.
Thomas Chatterton
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
WITH Shakspeare's manhood at a boy's wild heart,
Through Hamlet's doubt to Shakspeare near allied,
The Sodger's Lassie
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
A'the toun is to the doun
Puin' o' the blaeberrie.
Ab's gane, Rab's gane,
Aggie's gane, Maggie's gane,
A' the toun is to the doun,
An's left the house to wae and me.
The Haunted Garden
© Madison Julius Cawein
THERE a tattered marigold
And dead asters manifold,
Showed him where the garden old
Of time bloomed:
Though Some Good Things Of Lower Worth
© Anna Laetitia Waring
The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance. Psalm 16:5.
Though some good things of lower worth
The Horse Show
© William Carlos Williams
Constantly near you, I never in my entire
sixty-four years knew you so well as yesterday
To Eleonora Duse I
© Sara Teasdale
Oh beauty that is filled so full of tears,
Where every passing anguish left its trace,
I pray you grant to me this depth of grace:
That I may see before it disappears,
The Moon
© George MacDonald
She comes! again she comes, the bright-eyed moon!
Under a ragged cloud I found her out,
The Farmer Remembers the Somme
© Vance Palmer
Will they never fade or pass!
The mud, and the misty figures endlessly coming
In file through the foul morass,
And the grey flood-water ripping the reeds and grass,
And the steel wings drumming.
"The sun goes down, on other lands to shine."
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The sun goes down, on other lands to shine.
I long to keep him, but he will not stay.
Only in fancy can I wing my way
To overtake him, to recatch each ray,
Warmer and warmer, till at last is mine,
In fancy, that loved gaze, that light divine.
The Quarrel by Linda Pastan: American Life in Poetry #149 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Elsewhere in this newspaper you may find some advice for maintaining and repairing troubled relationships. Here, in a poem by Linda Pastan of Maryland, is one of those relationships in need of some help.
The Quarrel
If there were a monument
to silence, it would not be
the tree whose leaves
murmur continuously
among themselves;
The Poetry Of Shakespeare
© George Meredith
Picture some Isle smiling green 'mid the white-foaming ocean; -
Full of old woods, leafy wisdoms, and frolicsome fays;
Passions and pageants; sweet love singing bird-like above it;
Life in all shapes, aims, and fates, is there warm'd by one great
human heart.
Think No More Of Me
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Think no more of me,
If we needs must part.
Mine was but a heart.
Think no more of me.
The First Part: Sonnet 8 - Now while the night her sable veil hath spread,
© William Henry Drummond
Now while the night her sable veil hath spread,
And silently her resty coach doth roll,
The Solitary
© Madison Julius Cawein
Upon the mossed rock by the spring
She sits, forgetful of her pail,
Lost in remote remembering
Of that which may no more avail.
The Boy Mind
© Edgar Albert Guest
WISH I was only as bright as my boy,
Wish I could think of the things that he springs;
