Dictionary Poems

Thank goodness…I was never sent to school…it would have rubbed off some of the originality. Discuss Beatrix Potter

THE fascination of what’s difficultHas dried the sap out of my veins, and rentSpontaneous joy and natural contentOut of my heart. There’s something ails our coltThat must, as if it had not holy bloodNor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud,Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and joltAs though it dragged road-metal. My curse on … Continued

Tonight my love is sleeping cold Where none may see and none shall pass.The daisies quicken in the mold, And richer fares the meadow grass. The warding cypress pleads the skies, The mound goes level in the rain.My love all cold and silent lies- Pray God it will not rise again! – Requiescat by Dorothy … Continued

It is no use trying to sum people up. One must follow hints, not exactly what is said, nor yet entirely what is done. Discuss Virginia Woolf

Every child born into the world is a new thought of God, an ever fresh and radiant possibility. Discuss Kate Wiggin

A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,That sat it down to rest,Nor noticed that the ebbing dayFlowed silver to the west,Nor noticed night did soft descendNor constellation burn,Intent upon the visionOf latitudes unknown. The angels, happening that way,This dusty heart espied;Tenderly took it up from toilAnd carried it to God.There, — sandals for the barefoot;There, … Continued

The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fanOf silver as the rondo slows; now reelsBegin on tilted violins to span The whole revolving tall glass palace hallWhere guests slide gliding into light like wine;Rose candles flicker on the lilac wallReflecting in a million flagons’ shine, And … Continued

When the shoe strings breakOn both your shoesAnd you’re in a hurry-That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy barAnd you’ve lost the dime you had-Slipped through a hole in your pocket somewhere-That’s the blues, too, and bad! – The Blues by Langston Hughes

O Sorrow, cruel fellowship,O Priestess in the vaults of Death,O sweet and bitter in a breath,What whispers from thy lying lip? The stars, she whispers, blindly run;A web is wov’n across the sky;From out waste places comes a cry,And murmurs from the dying sun: And all the phantom, Nature, stands—With all the music in her … Continued

I cannot express it: but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you. Discuss Emily Bronte