Treasure Island

Christopher Morley

(5 May 1890 – 28 March 1957 / Haverford, Pennslyvania)

Previous Month August 2014 Next Month
Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa Su
28 29 30 31 1 2 3
4 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24
25 26 27 28 29 30 31
Modern Poem of The Day
Select a day from the calendar.
Would you like to see the poem of the day in your e-mail box every morning?
Your email address:
  Subscribe FREE
  Unsubscribe

Inscription For A Grammar


There were two cheerful pronouns
And nought did them disturb:
Until they met, out walking.
A conjugative verb.

The pronouns, child, were You and I,
We might as well confess;
But, ah, the mischief-making verb
I leave to you to guess!

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

Do you like this poem?
1 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: child, children

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Inscription For A Grammar by Christopher Morley )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 4 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Melancholia (haiku), hap rochelle
  2. قصه ماه 1, ALI MOSLEHI
  3. life is fair........., RIC S. BASTASA
  4. when you are alone you become a thinker, RIC S. BASTASA
  5. all dirty clothes wrapped in cellophane, RIC S. BASTASA
  6. the way i want it, RIC S. BASTASA
  7. an early morning canvass, RIC S. BASTASA
  8. A Nation I Lack Of Notion, Halla Ingimars
  9. a little philosophy, RIC S. BASTASA
  10. No More Sorrow, Dr. Emmanuel Moore Abolo

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]