Top 500 Poems
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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
Abode Of The Beloved
Oh Companion That Abode Is Unmatched,
Where My Complete Beloved Is.
A Boy Named Sue
by Shel Silverstein
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
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
by James Arlington Wright
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
Wild Geese By Mary Oliver
by Alison Cassidy
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
A White Rose
by John Boyle O'Reilly
THE red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
by Seamus Heaney
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.
by Thomas Stearns Eliot
Because I do not hope to turn again
by Brian Patten
When I think of her sparkling face
And of her body that rocked this way and that,
by Archibald MacLeish
A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit
Between Going And Coming
by Octavio Paz
Between going and staying
the day wavers,
Name Of Horses
by Donald Hall
All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding
and steerhide over the ash hames, to haul
America The Beautiful
by Katharine Lee Bates
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
by Matsuo Basho
About His Person
by Simon Armitage
Five pounds fifty in change, exactly,
a library card on its date of expiry.
There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods
by George Gordon Byron
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
A Memory Of June
by Claude McKay
When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
Spring And Fall: To A Young Child
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
by Siegfried Sassoon
Have you forgotten yet?...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Some Like Poetry
by Wislawa Szymborska
thus not all. Not even the majority of all but the minority.
Since Hanna Moved Away
by Judith Viorst
The tires on my bike are flat.
The sky is grouchy gray.
An Old Life
by Donald Hall
Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
A Work Of Artifice
by Marge Piercy
The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot