Poems

[Neill]

got a limerick here:


That thing on my wood is humongous

I’m sure there are more among us

An unusual polypore

And puffballs both born from spore

Those innante and beloved known as fungus



Any body else have any they want to share?

 

[Reach]

Do the poems have to be originals, or are we permitted to share favorites written by others?

 

[Jonny]

• Good Timber​

  • by Douglas Malloch
• The tree that never had to fight
  For sun and sky and air and light,
  But stood out in the open plain
  And always got its share of rain,
  Never became a forest king
  But lived and died a scrubby thing.
  The man who never had to toil
  To gain and farm his patch of soil,
  Who never had to win his share
  Of sun and sky and light and air,
  Never became a manly man
  But lived and died as he began.
  Good timber does not grow with ease:
  The stronger wind, the stronger trees;
  The further sky, the greater length;
  The more the storm, the more the strength.
  By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
  In trees and men good timbers grow.
  Where thickest lies the forest growth,
  We find the patriarchs of both.
  And they hold counsel with the stars
  Whose broken branches show the scars
  Of many winds and much of strife.
  This is the common law of life.

 

[Neill]

Do the poems have to be originals, or are we permitted to share favorites written by others?

By all means, share any poem you like

 

[Reach]

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening​

BY Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

 

[SeanRuel]

The More Loving One- W.H Auden

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

 

[pete3d]

Ode to an Expiring Frog - with a smile - by Charles Dickens​

Can I view thee panting, lying
On thy stomach, without sighing!
Can I unmoved see thee dying
On a log,
Expiring frog!

Say, have fiends in shape of boys,
With wild halloo and brutal noise,
Hunted thee from marshy joys,
With a dog,
Expiring frog?​