Poems begining by T
/ page 750 of 916 /The Alligator Bride
© Donald Hall
Now the beard on my clock turns white.
My cat stares into dark corners
missing her gold umbrella.
She is in love
with the Alligator Bride.
To One Who Bade Him Work
© Edith Nesbit
EACH day Work bids my heart anew,
Fold wings and watch my brain at play;
But brain and heart will fly your way,
And find their natural home in you!
Come to me--'tis the only way!
The Sea-Child
© Eliza Cook
HE crawls to the cliff and plays on a brink
Where every eye but his own would shrink;
No music he hears but the billows noise,
And shells and weeds are his only toys.
The Pizza
© Ogden Nash
Look at itsy-bitsy Mitzi!
See her figure slim and ritzy!
She eats a
Pizza!
Greedy Mitzi!
She no longer itsy-bitsy!
The Quiet Eye
© Eliza Cook
THE ORB I like is not the one
That dazzles with its lightning gleam;
That dares to look upon the sun,
As though it challenged brighter beam.
The Old Arm-chair
© Eliza Cook
I LOVE it, I love it ; and who shall dare
To chide me for loving that old Arm-chair ?
I've treasured it long as a sainted prize ;
I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs.
The First Flowers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
For ages on our river borders,
These tassels in their tawny bloom,
And willowy studs of downy silver,
Have prophesied of Spring to come.
The Waggoner - Canto Fourth
© William Wordsworth
THUS they, with freaks of proud delight,
Beguile the remnant of the night;
And many a snatch of jovial song
Regales them as they wind along;
The Ambush
© Nimah Nawwab
He watched the old movie unfold,
The head-covered man bashing his van into a building,
Nodding his head: Yes another one, they are terrorists,
The calm way he uttered those words
The look in his young eyes,
Made me ache.
Thinking For Berky
© William Stafford
In the late night listening from bed
I have joined the ambulance or the patrol
screaming toward some drama, the kind of end
that Berky must have some day, if she isn't dead.
The Voices
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"WHY urge the long, unequal fight,
Since Truth has fallen in the street,
Or lift anew the trampled light,
Quenched by the heedless million's feet?
The Curse
© John Millington Synge
Lord, confound this surly sister,
Blight her brow with blotch and blister,
Cramp her larynx, lung, and liver,
In her guts a galling give her.
The Light By The Barn
© William Stafford
The light by the barn that shines all night
pales at dawn when a little breeze comes.A little breeze comes breathing the fields
from their sleep and waking the slow windmill.The slow windmill sings the long day
about anguish and loss to the chickens at work.The little breeze follows the slow windmill
This Life
© William Stafford
We would climb the highest dune,
from there to gaze and come down:
the ocean was performing;
we contributed our climb.
Traveling Through The Dark
© William Stafford
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.