Poems begining by T
/ page 735 of 916 /
The Oak and the Rose
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
An oak tree and a rosebush grew,
Young and green together,
Talking the talk of growing things-
Wind and water and weather.
The News
© Sukasah Syahdan
1)
eleven forty-five a.m.
someone sent me news
through the rain: good mourning!
The Instructor
© Rudyard Kipling
At times when under cover I 'ave said,
To keep my spirits up an' raise a laugh,
'Earin 'im pass so busy over-'ead-
Old Nickel-Neck, 'oo is n't on the Staff -
"There's one above is greater than us all"
The Sculptor.
© Arthur Henry Adams
O'er the Eastern hills of light
While the dim world slept
Dawn the sculptor stepped,
And the shapeless block of Night
Chiselled into form
Morning-lit and warm.
To H.
© Sukasah Syahdan
Thank you so much,
I cant thank you all enough
for this most beautiful epitaph:
To a Friend, on the Death of a Relative.
© Mather Byles
I.
Great GOD, thy Works our Wonder raise,
To thee our swelling Notes belong;
While Skies, and Winds, and Rocks, and Seas,
Around shall echo to our Song.
The Tryst Of The Sachems Daughter
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
In the far green depths of the forest glade,
Where the hunters footsteps but rarely strayed,
Was a darksome dell, possessed, twas said,
By an evil spirit, dark and dread,
Whose weird voice spoke in the whisperings low
Of that haunted wood, and the torrents flow.
To the Author of a Poem Entitled Succession
© Alexander Pope
Begone, ye Critics, and restrain your spite,
Codrus writes on, and will for ever write,
That Flesh is Grass is Now as Clear as Day...
© Thomas Hood
That flesh is grass is now as clear as day,
To any but the merest purblind pup,
Death cuts it down, and then, to make her hay,
My Lady B-- comes and rakes it up.
The Hypermarket
© Sukasah Syahdan
history is a hurried
checklist of the goods
mankind wishes
to unforget
The Ballad of Richard Cory, Jr.
© Sukasah Syahdan
Whenever he drives downtown
Envy is what we have for him
A princely look from sole to crown
Dark glasses, a glossy limousine
Threnody For A Poet
© Bliss William Carman
Not in the ancient abbey,
Nor in the city ground,
Not in the lonely mountains,
Nor in the blue profound,
Lay him to rest when his time is come
And the smiling mortal lips are dumb;
Tudod-e?
© Sukasah Syahdan
Your oft-repeated bocsánat
has grown me sick; it keeps
reminding me of a religious teaching.
God the ever pardoning
The Young Soldier
© Wilfred Owen
It is not death
Without hereafter
To one in dearth
Of life and its laughter,
The Man Bitten By Fleas
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
A Peevish Fellow laid his Head
On Pillows, stuff'd with Down;
But was no sooner warm in Bed,
With hopes to rest his Crown,
The Homeless Ghost
© George MacDonald
Still flowed the music, flowed the wine.
The youth in silence went;
Through naked streets, in cold moonshine,
His homeward way he bent,
Where, on the city's seaward line,
His lattice seaward leant.
Tintype on the Pond, 1925 by J. Lorraine Brown: American Life in Poetry #35 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La
© Ted Kooser
Massachusetts poet J. Lorraine Brown has used an unusual image in “Tintype on the Pond, 1925.” This poem, like many others, offers us a unique experience, presented as a gift, for us to respond to as we will. We need not ferret out a hidden message. How many of us will recall this little scene the next time we see ice skates or a Sunday-dinner roast?
