The Goose-Girl
I WANDERED lonely by the sea,
As is my daily use,
I saw her drive across the lea
The gander and the goose.
The gander and the gray, gray goose,
She drove them all together;
Her cheeks were rose, her gold hair loose,
All in the wild gray weather.
'O dainty maid who drive the geese
Across the common wide,
Turn, turn your pretty back on these
And come and be my bride.
I am a poet from the town,
And, 'mid the ladies there,
There is not one would wear a crown
With half your charming air!'
She laughed, she shook her pretty head.
'I want no poet's hand;
Go read your fairy-books,' she said,
'For this is fairy-land.
My Prince comes riding o'er the leas;
He fitly comes to woo,
For I'm a Princess, and my geese
Were poets, once, like you!'
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The female has little choice.
Man for woman and gander for goose
Are the only choice to be love mates.
There is no other go that they must know.
Women and geese can accept or escape.
09.08.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Affection Of Friend
—Where do you go princess – riding on the horse
— To go to fairy land -my long time intends
—Will you go with me riding on horse to land of fairy?
—No, at house my mother is waiting for me
—Come back, I shall listen from you fairy land's tale
—I can't leave you even my dream falls in hell
—Let us both turn round our village to see its beautifying.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Golden Rose
A POOR lost princess, weary and worn,
Came over the down by the wind-washed moor,
And the king looked out on her grace forlorn,
And he took her in at his palace door.
He made her queen, he gave her a crown,
Bidding her rest and be glad and gay
In his golden town, with a golden gown,
And a new gold lily every day.
But the crown is heavy, the gold gown gray,
And the queen's pale breast is like autumn snows;
For he brings a gold lily every day,
But no king gathers the golden rose.
One came at last to the palace keep
By worlds of water and leagues of land,
Gray were his garments, his eyes were deep,
And he held the golden rose in his hand.
She left gold gown, gold town, gold crown,
And followed him straight to a world apart,
And he left her asleep on the wind-washed down,
With the golden rose on her quiet heart.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Christmas Goose
Mr. Smiggs was a gentleman,
And he lived in London town;
His wife she was a good kind soul,
And seldom known to frown.
'Twas on Christmas eve,
And Smiggs and his wife lay cosy in bed,
When the thought of buying a goose
Came into his head.
So the next morning,
Just as the sun rose,
He jump'd out of bed,
And he donn'd his clothes,
Saying, "Peggy, my dear.
You need not frown,
For I'll buy you the best goose
In all London town."
So away to the poultry shop he goes,
And bought the goose, as he did propose,
And for it he paid one crown,
The finest, he thought, in London town.
When Smiggs bought the goose
He suspected no harm,
But a naughty boy stole it
From under his arm.
Then Smiggs he cried, "Stop, thief!
Come back with my goose!"
But the naughty boy laugh'd at him,
And gave him much abuse.
But a policeman captur'd the naughty boy,
And gave the goose to Smiggs,
And said he was greatly bother'd
By a set of juvenile prigs.
So the naughty boy was put in prison
For stealing the goose.,
And got ten days' confinement
Before he got loose.
So Smiggs ran home to his dear Peggy,
Saying, "Hurry, and get this fat goose ready,
That I have bought for one crown;
So, my darling, you need not frown."
"Dear Mr Smiggs, I will not frown:
I'm sure 'tis cheap for one crown,
Especially at Christmas time --
Oh! Mr Smiggs, it's really fine."
"Peggy. it is Christmas time,
So let us drive dull care away,
For we have got a Christmas goose,
So cook it well, I pray.
"No matter how the poor are clothed,
Or if they starve at home,
We'll drink our wine, and eat our goose,
Aye, and pick it to the bone."
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The White Waves At Port Fairy
The white waves at Port Fairy they make a loud din
As on to the long beach the tide does roll in
And the dainty looking silver gulls mew as they fly
As the sun disappears in the gray evening sky
Thousands of centuries before the first Humans came to this great Land
The tide at Port Fairy rolled up the gray sand
Long before the first dinosaurs from their eggs pecked their way free
The huge white waves rolled in the Southern Sea
Though to the Port Fairy locals mine is a strange face
I do feel at home in this beautiful place
The artists have sketched it, the writers of it write
Their stories and poems for to read and recite
A special place to many and a special place to me
Port Fairy where the land does meet with the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Old Rhyming Poet
In his early eighties his best days long gone
But the gray haired old poet he keeps penning on
Though many see him as of another time
Sixty years as a poet and still writing in rhyme.
Though not seen as a mentor to the young poets of the town
He once was the Regional Poet Laureate and he knew of renown
When rhyme it was popular a long time ago
And his hair was as dark as the wing of a crow.
Not hard to tell he's known a far better day
The old rhyming poet that the years have left gray
It has been more than five decades since he was in his prime
Eventually we all become victims of time.
In time as in life few things do seem to last
And verses that rhyme are now seen as of the past
But to him to stop writing would be living a lie
And he will be a poet till the day that he die.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Fox
The Fox went out on a chilly night
He prayed for the moon to give him light
For he had many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o, town-o, town-o
He had many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o
He ran till he came to the farmers pen
The ducks and the geese were kept therein
He said a couple of you are gonna grease my chin
Before I leave this town-o, town-o, town-o
A couple of you are gonna grease my chin
Before I leave this town-o
[BRIDGE (Mandolin)]
He grabbed the great goose by the neck
He threw a duck across his back
And he didn't mind the quack, quack
And the legs all danglin' down-o, down-o, down-o
He didn't mind the quack, quack
And the legs all danglin' down-o
Well the old gray Woman jumped out of bed
Out of the window she popped her head
Cryin' John, John the great goose is gone
The Fox is on the town-o, town-o, town-o
John, John the great goose is gone
And the Fox is on the town-o
[BRIDGE (Fiddle)]
He ran till he came to his nice warm den
And there were the little ones 8, 9, 10
Sayin' Daddy, Daddy better go back again
It must be a mighty fine town-o, town-o, town-o
Daddy, Daddy go back again
For it must be a mighty fine town-o
The Fox and his Wife, without any strife
They cut up the goose with a fork and a knife
And they never had such a supper in their life
And the little ones chewed on the bones-o, bones-o, bones-o
They never had such a supper in their life
And the little ones chewed on the bones
song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Goose girl
Princess Rosalinda
Of great Oceania
In Romania
Betrothed to prince of Jamaica
On a perilous journey
To meet hers fiancée
Living at them farthest horizon
Takes a maid servant as companion
And a lock of dark raven hair
Of dear Queen mother o’ fair
Evidence for hers identity
Half way through ‘tis journey
The maid betrayed hers kindest heart
Took hers place with great deceit
Princess Rosalinda as the maid
Whose hath been deprived
Thence met hers waiting prince
Ungrateful wench of pretence
Hath received love’s first kiss
Whilst through arrow amiss
Gentle princess as goose girl
Tended the geese in the courtyard
Until one fine day whispered the wind
In the prince’s ear,
“Alas! Come hither, ”
“Prince o’ be latter”
“Fair maiden of raven hair”
‘Tis thou true one yonder
While other ‘tis imposter
Out runs hers prince of bravest
To embrace his maiden fairest,
Disgusting wench of mutter
Vermin of smutted tatter
Silent with no human utter
Lies Crushed in the murky gutter! ! !
poem by Aminath Neena
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For All Princesses
Of being a fairytale princess; every little girl has dreams
So real to them, it all really seems
By her mean stepmother, Cinderella was made to work so hard every day
Her fairy godmother helped her out in the best possible way
She met her handsome prince charming at the ball
Losing her glass slipper; on the ladies of the land; he had to call
Everyone of them tried it on their foot
She became a princess without her soot
Snow White cleaned the house for the seven dwarfs in the wood
The wicked queen tried the poison apple trick to kill her; if she could
Into a deep sleep Snow White drifted
From her side the loyal little men; never shifted
Along came her prince; with a kiss awakened her
Living happily ever after; they all were
To prick her finger on a spinning wheel, an evil fairy made
Princess Aurora for one hundred years; asleep, stayed
To break the spell; a good fairy tried
After a great length of time; her prince was by her side
He had broken through the tanglement of branches; that did surround
The castle everywhere
Then he saw sleeping beauty lying there
A princess in a long white gown
On his knee and bending down
Her lips with his; the prince did touch softly
He stepped back; awake, was she
Rejoicement went throughout the land
The prince and princess together did stand
All these fairytale princesses had so many trials to go through
Before their wishes came true
Even the princess who on a mountain of mattresses had to sleep
Her awake all night, this did keep
She proved that she was a princess with a delicate skin; absolutely
As under all the heap of foam was a little pea
My daughter Sarah is a princess to me
That's how it will always be
poem by Rose Angel H
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cashel of Munster, from the Irish
I'D wed you without herds, without money or rich array,
And I'd wed you on a dewy morn at day-dawn gray;
My bitter woe it is, love, that we are not far away
In Cashel town, tho' the bare deal board were our marriage-bed this
day!
O fair maid, remember the green hill-side,
Remember how I hunted about the valleys wide;
Time now has worn me; my locks are turn'd to gray;
The year is scarce and I am poor--but send me not, love, away!
O deem not my blood is of base strain, my girl;
O think not my birth was as the birth of a churl;
Marry me and prove me, and say soon you will
That noble blood is written on my right side still.
My purse holds no red gold, no coin of the silver white;
No herds are mine to drive through the long twilight;
But the pretty girl that would take me, all bare tho' I be and lone,
O, I'd take her with me kindly to the county Tyrone!
O my girl, I can see 'tis in trouble you are;
And O my girl, I see 'tis your people's reproach you bear!
--I am a girl in trouble for his sake with whom I fly,
And, O, may no other maiden know such reproach as I!
poem by Sir Samuel Ferguson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cashel of Munster
I’D wed you without herds, without money or rich array,
And I’d wed you on a dewy morn at day-dawn gray;
My bitter woe it is, love, that we are not far away
In Cashel town, tho’ the bare deal board were our marriage-
bed this day!
O fair maid, remember the green hill-side,
Remember how I hunted about the valleys wide;
Time now has worn me; my locks are turn’d to gray;
They year is scarce and I am poor—but send me not, love,
away!
O deem not my blood is of base strain, my girl;
O think not my birth was as the birth of a churl;
Marry me and prove me, and say soon you will
That noble blood is written on my right side still.
My purse holds no red gold, no coin of the silver white;
No herds are mine to drive through the long twilight;
But the pretty girl that would take me, all bare tho’ I be and lone,
O, I’d take her with me kindly to the county Tyrone!
O my girl, I can see ’tis in trouble you are;
And O my girl, I see ’tis your people’s reproach you bear!
—I am a girl in trouble for his sake with whom I fly,
And, O, may no other maiden know such reproach as I!
poem by Sir Samuel Ferguson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bells Of Gray Crystal
Bells of gray crystal
Break on each bough--
The swans' breath will mist all
The cold airs now.
Like tall pagodas
Two people go,
Trail their long codas
Of talk through the snow.
Lonely are these
And lonely and I ....
The clouds, gray Chinese geese
Sleek through the sky.
poem by Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hole In My Head
Hole in my head
hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
Let's just say we will and then don't instead
Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place
You took my imagination and stomped it inthe ground
Now I can only think about you
chasin' the tracks that you left around
Hole in my head
hole in my head
Oh I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
You make me feel so bad that I wish I was dead
Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again
I'm never gonna win
It must have knocked me crazy
it must have hit me hard
People must think I'm lazy
Like my shuffle's short
of playing a card
Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
Oh I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place
Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you
Like a hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
song performed by by Dixie Chicks from Fly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
How To Be A Good Poet
oh dear poet you drive me insane
i know you can write a poem
so you must have a brain
really love your mystique
pretty sure i would love your physique
so could you please
please please please
only send one invite
then you comment on my poem
the one about the princess, fairy, or knight
sure you will find them a delight
then i will comment on your poem
the one about the moon, stars, and tree
it is as simple as one two three
poem by Rachel Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Goose who Loved Golf
On the flight path down from Quebec
in the recent past, they say,
The lead goose saw a foursome
on the fairway, hard at play.
Their clothing was intriguing
Bright Argyles and Staid plaids
Little lackeys followed them,
carrying their bags.
The goose brigade lost interest
in proceeding South that day.
Instead they landed on the course
intent on watching play.
The lead Goose now spent all his time
At Bethpage, on the Black,
and honked golf commentary
to all his fledgling flock.
This lead Goose was the First,
brave Avian pioneer,
who broke the pattern going South-
instead he wintered here.
The Geese are protected by the law,
so we have no recourse.
We can't hunt down these honkers
who are greasing up the course.
Within one human lifetime-
a revolutionary change.
the geese have all stopped flying South
They're students of the game.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fairytail life
Im sitting here
Living my life
Thinking about
What it could be
A fantasy
And full of dreams
Something that I can see
Only on the tv screen
If only live was a fairy tail
Id be a princess
And ill have my prince
Although right now
I have him in mind
If only
Life was a fairy tail
I would have
A pretty dress
That all the girls
Would have green eyes for
It would be worn
To the ball
But if only
Life was a fairy tail
The prince shall see me
Tonight and will ask me to dance
Then at midnight I will have to runaway
And the chase begins
As I hide my true identity
To save our love
In this so called fairy tail
If I was Cinderella
I would lose my glass slipper
In the presents of him
For him to find me again
And love me
If only I was a fairy tail
my prince
would find me again
while all the other girls
are tryin to steal him from me
the true Cinderella
And our love would be saved (forever)
I would get married to the prince
So we could live
Happily…ever….after…..
But that is…..
The fairy tail…..
Of…my…life…
poem by Tessa Monaghan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Knew a Woman
I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I'd have them sing in a chorus, cheek to cheek).
How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,
She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and Stand;
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin;
I nibbled meekly from her proferred hand;
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
Coming behind her for her pretty sake
(But what prodigious mowing we did make).
Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
Her full lips pursed, the errant notes to sieze;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved).
Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay:
I'm martyr to a motion not my own;
What's freedom for? To know eternity.
I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.
But who would count eternity in days?
These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:
(I measure time by how a body sways).
poem by Theodore Roethke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Fairytale
Once upon a time, there was a prince
Groomed, grand, and great than the younger prince
Like a fairy tale, a lovely maid!
A pariah! On mats with rats she laid
Like a fairy tale the prince and maid met
Surely, their hearts thundered aloud; I bet
But the young envied the elder so much
He snitched to the king the prince with no match
Wretched was the young, the king abstained him!
So, the younger raised his wit with grim
To an apple! The young thawed a bane,
For through it, the maiden he will gain!
The prince took the fruit and was ill and died!
King, queen, and maid mourned the prince side by side
Nearby, the younger was laughing so loud1
Flaunting his lunacy behind the crowd
Like a fairy tale, burial day's come
The day was dusk, bewailing, and calm
The grave blocked with florets, men, and bells
Day died, men mourned and death sings with bells
Like a fairy tale, the maid kissed the prince
But behold! He moved! Alive is the prince!
The day is glowing, rejoicing, and tense!
Truth spilled! King arrested the younger prince!
Truly wild is the manor! All rejoiced! From serf to the crown!
Like a fairy tale, there was a wedding! Happy night was clown!
Sweet kiss! Love filled the air with madrigal of a nightingale
And they live happily ever after-like a fairy tale!
poem by Mark Joseph Canoy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!