Poems begining by T

 / page 757 of 916 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Woman in the Ordinary

© Marge Piercy

The woman in the ordinary pudgy downcast girl
is crouching with eyes and muscles clenched.
Round and pebble smooth she effaces herself
under ripples of conversation and debate.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Friend

© Marge Piercy

We sat across the table.
he said, cut off your hands.
they are always poking at things.
they might touch me.
I said yes.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To Be of Use

© Marge Piercy

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Voice of Robert Desnos

© Robert Desnos

the one I love is not listening
the one I love does not hear
the one I love does not answer.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Ring of Stars

© Robert Desnos

In order to make a star with five branches
Where six would have been the same
A circle must first be drawn
In order to make a star with five branches ...

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Tom's Little Dog

© Walter de la Mare

"Paid for!" says Tom; and in a trice
Up jerked that moist black nose;
A snap of teeth, a crunch, a munch,
And down the sugar goes!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Widow

© Walter de la Mare

Grief hath pacified her face;
Even hope might share so still a place;
Yet, on the silence of her heart,
Haply, if a strange footfall start,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Spirit of Air

© Walter de la Mare

Coral and clear emerald,
And amber from the sea,
Lilac-coloured amethyst,
Chalcedony;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Song Of Shadows

© Walter de la Mare

"Sweep thy faint strings, Musician,
With thy long lean hand;
Downward the starry tapers burn,
Sinks soft the waning sand;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Song of Finis

© Walter de la Mare

At the edge of All the Ages
A Knight sate on his steed,
His armor red and thin with rust
His soul from sorrow freed;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Sleeper

© Walter de la Mare

As Ann came in one summer's day,
She felt that she must creep,
So silent was the clear cool house,
It seemed a house of sleep.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Scribe

© Walter de la Mare

What lovely things
Thy hand hath made:
The smooth-plumed bird
In its emerald shade,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Remonstrance

© Walter de la Mare

I was at peace until you came
And set a careless mind aflame;
I lived in quiet; cold, content;
All longing in safe banishment,
Until your ghostly lips and eyes
Made wisdom unwise.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Mocking Fairy

© Walter de la Mare

'Won't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden;
'Can't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly in the garden;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Listeners

© Walter de la Mare

"Is there anybody there?" said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grass
Of the forest's ferny floor;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Keys of Morning

© Walter de la Mare

While at her bedroom window once,
Learning her task for school,
Little Louisa lonely sat
In the morning clear and cool,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Huntsmen

© Walter de la Mare

Three jolly gentlemen,
In coats of red,
Rode their horses
Up to bed.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Ghost

© Walter de la Mare

Peace in thy hands,
Peace in thine eyes,
Peace on thy brow;
Flower of a moment in the eternal hour,
Peace with me now.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Fool Rings His Bells

© Walter de la Mare

Come, Death, I'd have a word with thee;
And thou, poor Innocency;
And Love -- a lad with broken wing;
Apnd Pity, too;
The Fool shall sing to you,
As Fools will sing.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Tartary

© Walter de la Mare

If I were Lord of Tartary,
Myself, and me alone,
My bed should be of ivory,
Of beaten gold my throne;