Poems begining by T
/ page 646 of 916 /The Something
© Charles Simic
Here come my night thoughts
On crutches,
Returning from studying the heavens.
What they thought about
Stayed the same,
Stayed immense and incomprehensible.
This Morning
© Charles Simic
Enter without knocking, hard-working ant.
I'm just sitting here mulling over
What to do this dark, overcast day?
It was a night of the radio turned down low,
The Pool
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
By the pool that I see in my dreams, dear love,
I have sat with you time and again;
And listened beneath the dank leaves, dear love,
To the sibilant sound of the rain.
The Supreme Moment
© Charles Simic
The boot may be hesitating,
Demurring, having misgivings,
Gathering cobwebs,
Dew?
Yes, and apparently no.
The School Of Metaphysics
© Charles Simic
Executioner happy to explain
How his wristwatch works
As he shadows me on the street.
I call him that because he is grim and officious
And wears black.
The Oldest Child
© Charles Simic
Somewhere perhaps the lovers lie
Under the dark cypress trees,
Trembling with happiness,
But here there's only your beard of many days
And a night moth shivering
Under your hand pressed against your chest.
Tragic Dawn
© Arthur Symons
And in the midst of the flames I was suddenly aware
Of a flame-bird that fluttered on feverish wings
And the night was no longer there nor the night of her hair.
And I was more lonely than God in the heart of things.
When shall the last dawn come with cloudy chariotings?
I shall awake perhaps after that and not find you there.
Think'st thou to seduce me then
© Thomas Campion
Think'st thou to seduce me then with words that have no meaning?
Parrots so can learn to prate, our speech by pieces gleaning;
Nurses teach their children so about the time of weaning.
The Wooden Toy
© Charles Simic
The brightly-painted horse
Had a boy's face,
And four small wheels
Under his feet,
Talking To Little Birdies
© Charles Simic
Not a peep out of you now
After the bedlam early this morning.
Are you begging pardon of me
Hidden up there among the leaves,
Or are your brains momentarily overtaxed?
Transfiguration
© Louisa May Alcott
Mysterious death! who in a single hour
Life's gold can so refine
And by thy art divine
Change mortal weakness to immortal power!
Thoreau's Flute
© Louisa May Alcott
We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead;
His pipe hangs mute beside the river
Around it wistful sunbeams quiver,
But Music's airy voice is fled.
The Rose Family - Song II
© Louisa May Alcott
O lesson well and wisely taught
Stay with me to the last,
That all my life may better be
For the trial that is past.
The Rose Family - Song 1
© Louisa May Alcott
O flower at my window
Why blossom you so fair,
With your green and purple cup
Upturned to sun and air?
The Rock and The Bubble
© Louisa May Alcott
Oh! a bare, brown rock
Stood up in the sea,
The waves at its feet
Dancing merrily.
The Lay of a Golden Goose
© Louisa May Alcott
Long ago in a poultry yard
One dull November morn,
Beneath a motherly soft wing
A little goose was born.
The Frost-King - Song II
© Louisa May Alcott
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
The Frost-King - Song 1
© Louisa May Alcott
We are sending you, dear flowers
Forth alone to die,
Where your gentle sisters may not weep
O'er the cold graves where you lie;
The Thracian
© William Cowper
Thracian parents, at his birth,
Mourn their babe with many a tear,
But, with undissembled mirth,
Place him breathless on his bier.
The Parting II
© Anne Brontë
I knew her when her eye was bright,
I knew her when her step was light
And blithesome as a mountain doe's,
And when her cheek was like the rose,
And when her voice was full and free,
And when her smile was sweet to see.