Poems begining by T
/ page 629 of 916 /The Grog-an'Grumble Steeplechase
© Henry Lawson
'Twixt the coastline and the border lay the town of Grog-an'-Grumble
In the days before the bushman was a dull 'n' heartless drudge,
The Whitsun Weddings
© Philip Larkin
That Whitsun, I was late getting away:
Not till about
One-twenty on the sunlit Saturday
Did my three-quarters-empty train pull out,
This Be The Verse
© Philip Larkin
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
The Windigo
© William Henry Drummond
Cyprien is los' hees w'issle, Cyprien is los' hees
chain
Injun Johnnie he mus' fin' it, even if de win'
is high
Truth in advertising
© Yahia Lababidi
morning epiphany
applicable to love and life
in haiku-like purity:
The Empty Nest
© William Watson
I saunter all about the pleasant place
You made thrice pleasant, O my friends, to me;
The Loom Of Dreams
© Arthur Symons
I broider the world upon a loom,
I broider with dreams my tapestry;
Here in a little lonely room
I am master of earth and sea,
And the planets come to me.
To Sylvia Plath
© Yahia Lababidi
Sleepwalking she prepared breakfast
for her still dreaming children, before
breaking fast, to satisfy her appetite
The Art of Storm-riding
© Yahia Lababidi
I could not decipher the living riddle of my body
put it to sleep when it hungered, and overfed it
when time came to dream
The Rebel Scot
© John Cleveland
Yet wonder not at this their happy choice,
The serpent's fatal still to Paradise.
Sure, England hath the hemorrhoids, and these
On the north postern of the patient seize
Like leeches; thus they physically thirst
After our blood, but in the cure shall burst!
To The Eye
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
THRONE of expression! whence the spirit's ray
Pours forth so oft the light of mental day,
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 03
© William Langland
Now is Mede the mayde and no mo of hem alle,
With bedeles and baillies brought bifore the Kyng.
The Brass-Pot And Stone-Jugg
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
A brazen Pot, by scouring vext,
With Beef and Pudding still perplext,
The Universal Incarnation
© Sri Aurobindo
There is a Wisdom like a brooding Sun,
A Bliss in the heart's crypt grown fiery white,
The heart of a world in which all hearts are one,
A Silence on the mountains of delight.
The Universal Language Of Love
© Faye Diane Kilday
There is a universal language that is spoken by all -Both on earth and in the heavens above.It's a beautiful language that flows from the heart and it's universal name is love.
The language of love uses thoughts and feelingsto express what it wants to say,It's the language that God uses all the time when He speaks to you each day.
It's a heavenly language that communicates withsmiles, affection and tenderness,And its unspoken words will touch your heart andfill your soul with bliss.
The language of love is a gift from God that is trulyan inspiration, And it's the only language you'll ever need tocommunicate with all of creation.© Faye Kilday 2002
"Take not the Gods to task, for they are wise"
© Alfred Austin
Take not the Gods to task, for they are wise
When they refuse no less than when they grant.
Two Sonnets
© Charles Hamilton Sorley
ISAINTS have adored the lofty soul of you.
Poets have whitened at your high renown.
We stand among the many millions who
Do hourly wait to pass your pathway down.