Mary Oliver


Comments about Mary Oliver

  • Marsha (10/5/2018 2:15:00 PM)

    Looking for the poem Seventy, full of beans

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  • Linda (9/13/2018 2:39:00 PM)

    Looking for a poem about waking up to a deer licking her face

  • Allyson (7/15/2018 3:11:00 AM)

    looking for a poem that begins with the lines if only there were a boat, long and low and loaded with all that we'd brought.. possibly published in the New Yorker 14 years ago..

  • Olivia Leppard (6/12/2018 10:55:00 AM)

    who is Mary Oliver? I NEED THIS FOR A SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT!

  • Tom Christofferson (5/30/2018 8:08:00 AM)

    Looking for poem that begins with the line When death comes...

  • Sharron Arnold (4/28/2018 9:01:00 PM)

    Mary Oliver is probably my favourite artist....her pieces are so thought provoking and meaningful. Some bring me to tears, they are so beautiful....

  • Michele Ann Gill (3/16/2018 8:34:00 PM)

    Mary Oliver is such an exceptional, unique poet and she inspires me to keep writing. She's absolutely right about poetry being a way of life I have a propensity to write and must keep going. Her work is so beautiful, direct, poignant, effortless and intelligent, I often wonder, why do I bother?

  • The Van Man (2/9/2018 8:18:00 AM)

    slober slober slober slober

  • your nan (2/9/2018 8:16:00 AM)

    this gave me klamidia

  • The Van Man (2/9/2018 8:16:00 AM)

    Totally not a creep with a white van

Best Poem of Mary Oliver

A Dream Of Trees

There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees,
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town,
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare,
With only streams and birds for company.
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death,
A little way away from everywhere.

There is a thing in me still dreams of trees,
But let it go. Homesick for moderation,
Half the world’s artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him ...

Read the full of A Dream Of Trees

Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack

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