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

Recuerdo

We were very tired, we were very merry--
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable--
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
We lay on a hilltop underneath the moon;
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.

We were very tired, we were very merry--
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry,

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