Poems begining by T
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The Gateway
© Alec Derwent Hope
Now the heart sings with all its thousand voices
To hear this city of cells, my body, sing.
The tree through the stiff clay at long last forces
Its thin strong roots and taps the secret spring.
The Emergency Drill
© Chris Jones
We sat in the belly of the aeroplane
and held out for sirens to swerve across the grass;
men with cutting gear and masks. No-one came.
On a back seat, Mr. Phillips bandied jokes to pass
The Ventriloquists
© Harold Pinter
I send my voice into your mouth
You return the complimentI am the Count of Cannizzaro
You are Her Royal Highness the Princess AugustaI am the thaumaturgic chain
You hold the opera glass and cardsYou become extemporaneous song
The Death Of Art
© Emanuel Xavier
Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.
-critic Harold Bloom, who first called slam poetry "the death of art.
The Blossom
© William Shakespeare
ON a day--alack the day!--
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair
Playing in the wanton air:
The Divine Vision
© George William Russell
THIS mood hath known all beauty, for it sees
Oerwhelmed majesties
In these pale forms, and kingly crowns of gold
On brows no longer bold,
