Poems begining by Y

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You Nor I Nor Nobody Knows

© Adelaide Crapsey

You nor I nor nobody knows

Where our daily-taken breath

Young Love

© Andrew Marvell

Come little Infant, Love me now,
While thine unsuspected years
Clear thine aged Fathers brow
From cold Jealousie and Fears.

Yad Mordechai

© Yehuda Amichai

And I said to myself: Everyone is attached to his own lament
as to a parachute. Slowly he descends and slowly hovers
until he touches the hard place.

Young Una

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

Upon the shore young Una lies,

A smile upon her mouth;

You must not wonder, though you think it strange

© George Gascoigne

You must not wonder, though you think it strange,

To see me hold my lowering head so low;

Years

© Walter Savage Landor

Years, many parti-colourd years,
Some have crept on, and some have flown
Since first before me fell those tears
I never could see fall alone.

You Mustn't Show Weakness

© Yehuda Amichai

You mustn't show weakness
and you've got to have a tan.
But sometimes I feel like the thin veils
of Jewish women who faint
at weddings and on Yom Kippur.

Out of nothing there comes a time called childhood, which
is simply a path leading through an archway called
adolescence. A small town there, past the arch called youth.
Soon, down the road, where one almost misses the life

You

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

SLANTING rain and a sky of gray,
Drifting mist and a wind astray,
The leaden end of a leaden day
And you--away!

Yesterday

© Edgar Albert Guest

I've trod the links with many a man,
And played him club for club;
'Tis scarce a year since I began
And I am still a dub.

You And Your Body

© Edgar Albert Guest

WHOM is your boy going to for advice?
Tough Johnny Jones at the end of the street,
Rough Billy Green or untaught Jimmy Price?
Who is now guiding his innocent feet?
Who takes him walking or swimming today,
You, or the stranger just over the way?

You

© Vladimir Mayakovsky

You came
determined,
because I was large,
because I was roaring,

Youth And Love

© Robert Louis Stevenson

To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside.
Passing for ever, he fares; and on either hand,
Deep in the gardens golden pavilions hide,
Nestle in orchard bloom, and far on the level land
Call him with lighted lamp in the eventide.

You

© Barry Tebb

Remember, you loved me, when we were young, one day

Young Greedyguts

Cap of silk moiré, little wand of ivory,
Clothes very dark.
Paul watches the cupboard,
sticks out little tongue at pear,
Prepares, gives a poke, and squitters.

Yet Gentle Will the Griffin Be

(What Grandpa told the Children)
The moon? It is a griffin's egg,
Hatching to-morrow night.
And how the little boys will watch

Yankee Doodle

This poem is intended as a description of a sort of Blashfield mural painting on the sky. To be sung to the tune of Yankee Doodle, yet in a slower, more orotund fashion. It is presumably an exercise for an entertainment on the evening of Washington's Birthday.
Dawn this morning burned all red
Watching them in wonder.
There I saw our spangled flag

You Must n't Swim...

You must n't swim till you're six weeks old,
Or your head will be sunk by your heels;
And summer gales and Killer Whales
Are bad for baby seals.

Youth In Age

Once I was part of the music I heard
On the boughs or sweet between earth and sky,
For joy of the beating of wings on high
My heart shot into the breast of the bird.