Poems From


http://www.jacketflap.com/bookdetail.asp?bookid=0060292873

 

The Red Wheelbarrow
BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

The Tiger
BY WILLIAM BLAKE

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

http://www.online-literature.com/blake/632/

 

 

 

 

 

dog
BY VALERIE WORTH

Under a maple tree
The dog lies down,
Lolls his limp
Tongue, yawns,
Rests his long chin
Carefully between
Front paws;
Looks up, alert;
Chops, with heavy
Jaws, at a slow fly,
Blinks, rolls
On his side,
Sighs, closes
His eyes: sleeps
All afternoon
In his loose skin.

 

 

 

 

 

The Pasture
BY ROBERT FROST

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long.--You come too.

I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long.--You come too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Street Music
BY ARNOLD ADOFF

T h i s c i t y:
t h e
a l w a y s
n o i s e
g r i n d i n g
up from the
s u b w a y s
u n d e r
g r o u n d:
slamming from bus tires
and taxi horns and engines
of cars and trucks in all

v o c a b u l a r i e s
of
clas
flash
screeching
hot metal l a n g u a g e
c o m b i n a t i o n s:
as p l a n e s
o v e r h e a d
r o a r
an
o r c h e s t r a
of rolling drums
and battle blasts
assaulting
my ears
w i t h
t h e
a l w a y s
n o i s e of
t h i s c i t y:

street music.

http://www.bayareawritingproject.org/mcafee/StreetMusic

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Apple
BY S. C. RIGG

            s
        t
   e
 m

apple  apple             apple  apple
apple yum apple   yum   apple yum apple
juicy juicy juicy juicy juicy juicy juicy juicy juicy
crunchy crunchy  crunchy crunchy crunchy crunchy
red yellow green red yellow green red yellow green red
apple apple apple apple apple apple apple apple apple apple
apple  apple apple apple apple apple apple apple apple   apple
yum delicious yum delicious yum delicious yum delicious  yum
yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum
yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum
yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum
yum yum yum yum yum yum wormy worm yuk  yuk  yum yum
yum yum yum yum yum yum wormy worm  yuk  yuk  yum yum
yum  yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum yum  yum
yum delicious yum  delicious yum  delicious yum delicious
apple apple  apple apple  apple apple apple apple apple
apple apple apple apple apple apple apple apple
apple apple  apple apple apple apple apple
red yellow green red yellow green red
crunchy crunchy crunchy crunchy
juicy juicy juicy juicy
apple apple

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love That Boy
BY WALTER DEAN MYERS

Love that boy,
like a rabbit loves to run
I said I love that boy
like a rabbit loves to run
Love to call him in the morning
love to call him
"Hey there, son!"

He walk like his Grandpa,
Grins like his Uncle Ben.
I said he walk like his Grandpa,
And grins like his Uncle Ben.
Grins when he’s happy,
When he sad, he grins again.

His mama like to hold him,
Like to feed him cherry pie.
I said his mama like to hold him.
Like to feed him that cherry pie.
She can have him now,
I’ll get him by and by

He got long roads to walk down
Before the setting sun.
I said he got a long, long road to walk down
Before the setting sun.
He’ll be a long stride walker,
And a good man before he done.

http://loribailey.wordpress.com/2004/11/15/love-that-boy-complete-poem/