Joseph Skipsey

(March 17, 1832 - September 3,1903 / Percy, Northumberland)

Joseph Skipsey Poems

1. Mary Of Crofton 9/3/2014
2. Star And The Meteor 9/3/2014
3. Willy To Jinny 9/3/2014
4. Bereaved 9/3/2014
5. The Wilted Leaf 9/3/2014
6. Dora Dee 9/3/2014
7. The Lad Of Bebside 9/3/2014
8. Meg Goldlocks 9/3/2014
9. Poor Rose 9/3/2014
10. Rosa Rea 9/3/2014
11. Undeceived 9/3/2014
12. The Three Maidens 9/3/2014
13. The Breezelet 9/3/2014
14. Polly And Harry 9/3/2014
15. Young Fanny 9/3/2014
16. The Proud One's Doom 9/3/2014
17. The Ring 9/3/2014
18. Stanzas 9/3/2014
19. Lo, The Day 9/3/2014
20. The Reign Of Gold 9/4/2014
21. Daffodil And Daisy 9/4/2014
22. The Seaton Terrace Lass 9/4/2014
23. Wonder-Bound 9/4/2014
24. Kit Clark 9/4/2014
25. My Loved One 9/4/2014
26. The Seer 9/4/2014
27. Tit-For-Tat 9/4/2014
28. Annie 9/4/2014
29. Away To The Well 9/4/2014
30. Sympathy 9/4/2014
31. The Mystic Lyre 9/4/2014
32. Away To The Fair 9/4/2014
33. Music 9/4/2014
34. Slighted 9/4/2014
35. The Modest Maid 9/4/2014
36. The Outcast Flower 9/4/2014
37. The Moth 9/4/2014
38. The Toast 9/4/2014
39. Two Hazel Eyes 9/5/2014
40. Omega 9/5/2014
Best Poem of Joseph Skipsey

The Butterfly

The butterfly from flower to flower
The urchin chas’d; and, when at last
He caught it in my lady’s bower,
He cried, “Ha, ha!” and held it fast.

Awhile he laugh’d, but soon he wept,
When looking at the prize he’d caught
He found he had to ruin swept
The very glory he had sought

Read the full of The Butterfly

Get Up!

Get up!" the caller calls, "Get up!"
And in the dead of night,
To win the bairns their bite and sup,
I rise a weary wight.

My flannel dudden donn'd, thrice o'er
My birds are kiss'd, and then
I with a whistle shut the door,
I may not ope again.

[Hata Bildir]