Franklin Pierce Adams

[F.P.A.] (15 November 1881 – 23 March 1960 / Chicago, Illinois)

Franklin Pierce Adams Poems

41. A New York Child's Garden Of Verses 3/30/2012
42. To Alice-Sit-By-The-Hour 1/3/2003
43. Us Potes 1/3/2003
44. The Carlysles 1/3/2003
45. The Comfort Of Obscurity 1/3/2003
46. The Jazzy Bard 1/3/2003
47. The Ballad Of The Murdered Merchant 1/3/2003
48. The Ballad Of The Thoughtless Waiter 1/3/2003
49. When You Meet A Man From Your Own Home Town 1/3/2003
50. To Myrtilla 1/3/2003
51. To A Prospective Cook 1/3/2003
52. What Flavour? 1/3/2003
53. On A Wine Of Horace's 1/3/2003
54. Recuerdo 1/3/2003
55. The Return Of The Soldier 1/3/2003
56. A Perfect Woman Nobly Planned 3/30/2012
57. Lines On Reading Frank J. Wilstach's 1/3/2003
58. Such Stuff As Dreams 1/3/2003
59. Present Imperative 1/3/2003
60. On First Looking Into Bee Palmer's Shoulders 1/3/2003
61. Thoughts On The Cosmos 1/3/2003
62. To An Aged Cut-Up, Ii 1/3/2003
63. The Stalling Of Q.H.F. 1/3/2003
64. To An Aged Cut-Up 1/3/2003
65. On Tradition 1/3/2003
66. It Happens In The B.R. Families 1/3/2003
67. If The Advertising Man Had Been Gilbert 1/3/2003
68. From: Horace To: Phyllis Subject: Invitation 1/3/2003
69. To A Vers Librist 1/3/2003
70. His Monument 1/3/2003
71. Lines Written On The Sunny Side Of Frankfort Street 1/3/2003
72. Propertius's Bid For Immortality 1/3/2003
73. Results Ridiculous 1/3/2003
74. The Doughboy's Horace 1/3/2003
75. Rus. Vs. Urbs 1/3/2003
76. On The Uses Of Adversity 1/3/2003
77. After Hearing Robin Hood 1/3/2003
78. If Amy Lowell Had Been James Whitcomb Riley 1/3/2003
79. The Dictaphone Bard 1/3/2003
80. The Shepherd's Resolution 1/3/2003

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Best Poem of Franklin Pierce Adams

Baseball's Sad Lexicon

These are the saddest of possible words:
Tinker to Evers to Chance.
Trio of Bear-cubs, fleeter than birds,
Tinker to Evers to Chance.
Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble,
Making a Giant hit into a double --
Words that are weighty with nothing but trouble:
Tinker to Evers to Chance.

Read the full of Baseball's Sad Lexicon

Rus. Vs. Urbs

Whenever the penner of this pome
Regards a lovely country home,
He sighs, in words not insincere,
"I think I'd like to live out here."

And when the builder of this ditty
Returns to this pulsating city,
The perpetrator of this pome
Yearns for a lovely country home.

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