Top 500 Poems
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Inniskeen Road: July Evening
by Patrick Kavanagh
The bicycles go by in twos and threes -
There's a dance in Billy Brennan's barn to-night,
About His Person
by Simon Armitage
Five pounds fifty in change, exactly,
a library card on its date of expiry.
I Searched You
by ramesh rai
I searched you in Mosque, Church,
temple, Gurudwara, and at so many places
My Dark Nights
by sathya narayana
At the distant verge of the horizon
Slowly submerging is the weary Sun
by Amy Lowell
I walk down the garden-paths,
And all the daffodils
Haiku (The Taste...)
by Jack Kerouac
Abode Of The Beloved
Oh Companion That Abode Is Unmatched,
Where My Complete Beloved Is.
A Work Of Artifice
by Marge Piercy
The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
Be With Those Who Help Your Being
by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Be with those who help your being.
Don't sit with indifferent people, whose breath
To Be Of Use
by Marge Piercy
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
"A Little While, A Little While..."
by Emily Jane Brontë
A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
by Robert Herrick
Here we are all, by day; by night we're hurl'd
By dreams, each one into a several world.
To My Dear And Loving Husband
by Anne Bradstreet
If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
Anywhere Out Of The World
by Charles Baudelaire
This life is a hospital where every patient is possessed with the desire to change beds; one man would like to
suffer in front of the stove, and ano
by Arthur Rimbaud
No one's serious at seventeen.
In The Orchard
by Muriel Stuart
'I thought you loved me.' 'No, it was only fun.'
'When we stood there, closer than all?' 'Well, the harvest moon
by Shel Silverstein
I will not play at tug o' war.
I'd rather play at hug o' war,
by Galway Kinnell
I eat oatmeal for breakfast.
I make it on the hot plate and put skimmed milk on it.
by Sir Henry Newbolt
There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night --
Ten to make and the match to win --
" To His Fairest Valentine Mrs. A. L.
by Richard Lovelace
"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,
And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;
Little Boy Blue
by Eugene Field
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
by Sarojini Naidu
Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all nig
Lonely Am I
by jim foulk
Lonely are the nights
Lonely are the days
by Edmund Spenser
Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
In Paris With You
by James Fenton
Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.