Joyce Kilmer Poems
|1.||In Memory of Rupert Brooke||6/11/2015|
|2.||Queen Elizabeth Speaks||6/10/2016|
|3.||Gates and Doors||7/23/2015|
|7.||Age Comes A-Wooing||5/14/2015|
|8.||Mid-Ocean In War-Time||1/21/2015|
|9.||The Ballade Of Butterflies||12/13/2014|
|11.||The New School||11/27/2014|
|13.||Servant Girl And Grocer's Boy||12/31/2002|
|14.||The Apartment House||12/31/2002|
|15.||The Fourth Shepherd||12/31/2002|
|16.||To A Blackbird And His Mate Who Died In The Spring||12/31/2002|
|17.||The White Ships And The Red||12/31/2002|
|21.||St. Alexis, Patron Of Beggars||12/31/2002|
|22.||To Certain Poets||12/31/2002|
|24.||The Snowman In The Yard||12/31/2002|
|40.||Citizen Of The World||12/31/2002|
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Queen Elizabeth Speaks
My hands were stained with blood, my heart was
proud and cold,
My soul is black with shame . . . but I gave Shakespeare gold.
So after aeons of flame, I may, by grace of God,
Rise up to kiss the dust that Shakespeare's feet have trod.