Poems begining by T

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The Convent Gardener Of Lamporechio

© Jean de La Fontaine

THE place, as was expected, soon he got;
And half the grounds to trench, at once his lot:
He acted well the nincompoop and fool,
Yet still was steady to the garden tool;
The nuns continually would flock around,
And much amusement in his anticks found.

The Contract

© Jean de La Fontaine

A CERTAIN Citizen, with fortune large,
When settled with a handsome wife in charge,
Not long attended for the marriage fruit:
The lady soon put matters 'yond dispute;
Produced a girl at first, and then a boy,
To fill th' expecting parent's breast with joy.

The Cobbler

© Jean de La Fontaine

THE time for payment came; the money used;
The cash our factor would not be refused;
Of writs he talked, attorneys, and distress;
The reason:--heav'n can tell, and you may guess;
In short, 'twas clear our gay gallant desired,
To cheer the wife, whose beauty all admired.

The Clyster

© Jean de La Fontaine

NOT much examination Cupid made,
As parent, lawyer, priest, he lent his aid,
And soon concluded matters as desired;
The Mansian wisdom no ways was required.

The Case Of Conscience

© Jean de La Fontaine

THOSE who in fables deal, bestow at ease
Both names and titles, freely as they please.
It costs them scarcely any thing, we find.
And each is nymph or shepherdess designed;
Some e'en are goddesses, that move below,
From whom celestial bliss of course must flow.

The Bucking-Tub

© Jean de La Fontaine

THEY curst his coming; trouble o'er them spread;
Naught could be done but hide the lover's head;
Beneath a bucking-tub, in utmost haste,
Within the court, our gay gallant was placed.

The Avaricious Wife And Tricking Gallant

© Jean de La Fontaine

LOOK well at this, ye heroes of the sword,
Howe'er with wily freaks your heads be stored,
Beyond a doubt, at court I now could find,
A host of lovers of the Gulphar kind.

The Amorous Courtesan

© Jean de La Fontaine

THE supper o'er the company withdrew,
But Constance suddenly was lost to view;
Beside a certain bed she took her seat,
Where no one ever dreamed she would retreat,
And all supposed, that ill, or spirits weak,
She home had run, or something wished to seek.

The Trouble with Snowmen

© Roger McGough

'The trouble with snowmen,'
Said my father one year
'They are no sooner made
than they just disappear.

The Time I Like Best

© Roger McGough

The time I like best is 6am
when the snow is 6 inches deep
which I'm yet to discover
'cause I'm under the covers
fast, fast asleep.

The Lesson

© Roger McGough

Chaos ruled OK in the classroom
as bravely the teacher walked in
the nooligans ignored him
hid voice was lost in the din

The Leader

© Roger McGough

I wanna be the leader
I wanna be the leader
Can I be the leader?
Can I? I can?

The Identification

So you think its Stephen?
Then I'd best make sure
Be on the safe side as it were.
Ah, theres been a mistake. The hair

The Feast of Age

SEE where the light streams over Connlas fountain
Starward aspire!
The sacred sign upon the holy mountain
Shines in white fire:

The Robing of the King

ON the bird of air blue-breasted glint the rays of gold,
And its shadowy fleece above us waves the forest old,
Far through rumorous leagues of midnight stirred by breezes warm.
See the old ascetic yonder, ah, poor withered form,

To One Consecrated

YOUR paths were all unknown to us:
We were so far away from you:
We mixed in thought your spirit thus
With whiteness, stars of gold, and dew.

The Winds of Angus

THE GREY road whereupon we trod became as holy ground:
The eve was all one voice that breathed its message with no sound:
And burning multitudes pour through my heart, too bright, too blind,
Too swift and hurried in their flight to leave their tale behind.