The straw parlor
Way up at the top of a big stack of straw
Was the cunningest parlor that ever you saw!
And there could you lie when aweary of play
And gossip or laze in the coziest way;
No matter how careworn or sorry one's mood
No worldly distraction presumed to intrude.
As a refuge from onerous mundane ado
I think I approve of straw parlors, don't you?
A swallow with jewels aflame on her breast
On that straw parlor's ceiling had builded her nest;
And she flew in and out all the happy day long,
And twittered the soothingest lullaby song.
Now some might suppose that that beautiful bird
Performed for her babies the music they heard;
I reckon she twittered her répertoire through
For the folk in the little straw parlor, don't you?
And down from a rafter a spider had hung
Some swings upon which he incessantly swung.
He cut up such didoes--such antics he played
Way up in the air, and was never afraid!
He never made use of his horrid old sting,
But was just upon earth for the fun of the thing!
I deeply regret to observe that so few
Of these good-natured insects are met with, don't you?
And, down in the strawstack, a wee little mite
Of a cricket went chirping by day and by night;
And further down, still, a cunning blue mouse
In a snug little nook of that strawstack kept house!
When the cricket went "chirp," Miss Mousie would squeak
"Come in," and a blush would enkindle her cheek!
She thought--silly girl! 't was a beau come to woo,
But I guess it was only the cricket, don't you?
So the cricket, the mouse, and the motherly bird
Made as soothingsome music as ever you heard
And, meanwhile, that spider by means of his swings
Achieved most astounding gyrations and things!
No wonder the little folk liked what they saw
And loved what they heard in that parlor of straw!
With the mercury up to 102
In the shade, I opine they just sizzled, don't you?
But once there invaded that Eden of straw
The evilest Feline that ever you saw!
She pounced on that cricket with rare promptitude
And she tucked him away where he'd do the most good;
And then, reaching down to the nethermost house,
She deftly expiscated little Miss Mouse!
And, as for the Swallow, she shrieked and withdrew--
I rather admire her discretion, don't you?
Now listen: That evening a cyclone obtained,
And the mortgage was all on that farm that remained!
Barn, strawstack and spider--they all blew away,
And nobody knows where they're at to this day!
And, as for the little straw parlor, I fear
It was wafted clean off this sublunary sphere!
I really incline to a hearty "boo-hoo"
When I think of this tragical ending, don't you?
poem by Eugene Field
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Related quotes
First Straw
Oh a whole new way of looking at things
The way you react to phone rings
The way it feels when you just let it flow
Sometimes I wonder just how it could be
You take every bit before we see it off the rails
I think that you should know
You never cease to amaze me
You keep me from going crazy
And that's one thing I know for sure
Sometimes I see just how it all will be
Take every bit it's so easy the first straw
And this I know for sure
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
No reason to take it there at all
Yeah
The last straw can land in your mix
Your best day could be apocalypse
Nobody pay attention to the first straw
It seems the last one is all we ever saw
The first straw's a metaphore I pick up myself
It tells me something by showing me something else
I think that you should know
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
No reason to take it there at all
Yeah
Everyone reacts when it gets to the weight of breaking their back
I won't let that be us cause the long side never gave back
Yeah
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
song performed by by 311
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Us Two
Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.
"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.
"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.
"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.
"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."
So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two,
Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
poem by Spike Milligan
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A Strange Wild Song
He thought he saw an Elephant
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
"At length I realize," he said,
"The bitterness of life!"
He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister's Husband's Niece.
"Unless you leave this house," he said,
"I'll send for the police!"
he thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
"The one thing I regret," he said,
"Is that it cannot speak!"
He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus.
"If this should stay to dine," he said,
"There won't be much for us!"
He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked a Coffee-mill:
He looked again, and found it was
A Vegetable-Pill.
"Were I to swallow this," he said,
"I should be very ill!"
He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
"Poor thing," he said, "poor silly thing!
It's waiting to be fed!"
poem by Lewis Carroll
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The Spider
"Oh, look at that great ugly spider!" said Ann;
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan;
"'Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be,
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. "
"Indeed," said her mother, "I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way;
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain,
It has much more occasion than you to complain.
"But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear;
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say.
"For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust;
But certainly we have no cause for alarm;
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm.
"Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree?
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you:
Come learn from this spider what patience can do!
"And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day,
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. "
poem by Jane Taylor
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Shortest Straw
Suspicion is your name
Your honesty to blame
Put dignity to shame
Dishonor
Witchhunt, modern day
Determining decay
The blatant disarray
Disfigure
The public eyes' disgrace
Defying common place
Unending paper chase
Unending
Deafening
Painstaking
Reckoning
This vertigo it doth bring
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
The accusations fly
Discrimination, why?
Your inner self to die
Intruding
Doubt sunk itself in you
It's teeth and talons through
You're living catch-22
Deluding
A mass hysteria
A megalomania
Reveal dementia
Reveal
Secretly
Silently
Certainly
In vertigo you will be
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
Behind you, hands are tied
Your being, ostracized
Your hell is multiplied
Upending
The fallout has begun
Oppressive damage done
Your many turned to none
To nothing
You're reaching your nadir
Your will has disappeared
The lie is crystal clear
Defending
Channels red
One word said
Blacklisted
With vertigo make you dead
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The night wind
Have you ever heard the wind go "Yooooo"?
'T is a pitiful sound to hear!
It seems to chill you through and through
With a strange and speechless fear.
'T is the voice of the night that broods outside
When folk should be asleep,
And many and many's the time I've cried
To the darkness brooding far and wide
Over the land and the deep:
Whom do you want, O lonely night,
That you wail the long hours through?"
And the night would say in its ghostly way:
"Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo!"
My mother told me long ago
(When I was a little tad)
That when the night went wailing so,
Somebody had been bad;
And then, when I was snug in bed,
Whither I had been sent,
With the blankets pulled up round my head,
I'd think of what my mother'd said,
And wonder what boy she meant!
And "Who's been bad to-day?" I'd ask
Of the wind that hoarsely blew,
And the voice would say in its meaningful way:
"Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo!"
That this was true I must allow -
You'll not believe it, though!
Yes, though I'm quite a model now,
I was not always so.
And if you doubt what things I say,
Suppose you make the test;
Suppose, when you've been bad some day
And up to bed are sent away
From mother and the rest -
Suppose you ask, "Who has been bad?"
And then you'll hear what's true;
For the wind will moan in its ruefulest tone:
"Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo!"
poem by Eugene Field
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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What is—
215
What is—"Paradise"—
Who live there—
Are they "Farmers"—
Do they "hoe"—
Do they know that this is "Amherst"—
And that I—am coming—too—
Do they wear "new shoes"—in "Eden"—
Is it always pleasant—there—
Won't they scold us—when we're homesick—
Or tell God—how cross we are—
You are sure there's such a person
As "a Father"—in the sky—
So if I get lost—there—ever—
Or do what the Nurse calls "die"—
I shan't walk the "Jasper"—barefoot—
Ransomed folks—won't laugh at me—
Maybe—"Eden" a'n't so lonesome
As New England used to be!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Lies On The Floor
Making up stories
saying this or that,
reaching for hollow straws
in a hollow straw hat.
Shooting through the straw,
with All your lies,
making your hollow straw pie.
Try and keep all your lying
straws straight,
what lying straw is first
what lying straw is number eight.
Top them all off
with a fake letter,
only you and I know better,
That’s it’s all bogus
and totally a scam,
especially when your talking ham to spam.
Play your way with all your spam
that you baked,
but here’s your big mistake,
something you can’t take,
because I have a crazy 8,
changing the suit for which I take,
and bend your straws and make them break.
FoR your fake straw hat will be no more,
for you’re found out as a lying spam boar.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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You're right—
234
You're right—"the way is narrow"—
And "difficult the Gate"—
And "few there be"—Correct again—
That "enter in—thereat"—
'Tis Costly—So are purples!
'Tis just the price of Breath—
With but the "Discount" of the Grave—
Termed by the Brokers—"Death"!
And after that—there's Heaven—
The Good Man's—"Dividend"—
And Bad Men—"go to Jail"—
I guess—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Puzzler
The Celt in all his variants from Builth to Ballyhoo,
His mental processes are plain--one knows what he will do,
And can logically predicate his finish by his start;
But the English--ah, the English!--they are quite a race apart.
Their psychology is bovine, their outlook crude and raw.
They abandon vital matters to be tickled with a straw;
But the straw that they were tickled with-the chaff that they were fed with--
They convert into a weaver's beam to break their foeman's head with.
For undemocratic reasons and for motives not of State,
They arrive at their conclusions--largely inarticulate.
Being void of self-expression they confide their views to none;
But sometimes in a smoking-room, one learns why things were done.
Yes, sometimes in a smoking-room, through clouds of "Ers" an "Ums,"
Obliquely and by inference, illumination comes,
On some step that they have taken, or some action they approve
Embellished with the argot of the Upper Fourth Remove.
In telegraphic sentences half nodded to their friends,
They hint a matter's inwardness--and there the matter ends.
And while the Celt is talking from Valencia to Kirkwall,
The English--ah, the English!--don't say anything at all.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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A Matter of Knack
Jock M'Pherson was a person who was boastful in conversin',
But respectable and ponderous and dignified withal!
Con M'Carty was a party who was something of a smarty,
And beside the big M'Pherson looked particularly small;
But Cornelius M'Carty, he was artful, after all!
When Cornelius M'Carty thought M'Pherson was his dart, he
Made a wager he could carry him a mile along the track;
Which, considering M'Pherson was a very weighty person,
Was a risky undertaking for M'Carty's little back.
But Cornelius protested it depended on the knack!
"Take yer coat off!" called M'Carty, and M'Pherson gave a start, he
Hadn't bargained for proceedings the reverse of dignified!
But he felt he had the best of the arrangement. "Take yer vest off!"
Said M'Carty; and M'Pherson very graciously complied.
It was in the private parlor, and the crowd was all outside.
"Take yer boots off!" said M'Carty in a cheerful tone and hearty,
But M'Pherson he objected that the crowd would see his toes.
Said M'Carty, "See, M'Pherson, there ain't any sense in cursin',
Take yer boots off, I don't reckon to be handicapped with those!
I am not the sort of juggins you apparently suppose!"
This M'Pherson's wrath arouses. "But," said he, "I'll keep me trousers!"
"Not a trouser!" said M'Carty, "or to me the wager goes.
The conditions you're reversin'; I will carry you, M'Pherson,
But the wager doesn't say a blessed word about yer clothes!"
That was how the small M'Carty had M'Pherson by the nose!
poem by William Thomas Goodge
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Straw Foot
I guess you didnt hear me
When I told you for the first time
Well dont you worry
It wont be the last
All I need a floorboard
An a wooden shoe
Step aside an let my lady through
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Up an back around
See the high priest
He took my place
When the judge looks to me
He saw his sons face
Not gonna join you in
Your tower of babble, boy
Tired o that talkin
Im sick o that noise
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Im not alone
An looks can be deceivin
When we get down to it
Youre talkin when you
Should be leavin
Ive been to nebraska
It reminded me of spain
All the questions loaded
All my answers same
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hay foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Let us not mince our words
Lets say it true this time
I need your forgiveness
Just like you need mine
Tell me how it is that
You dont want what hes given
It aint no sin son
To be forgiven
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
All over town
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shortest Straw
Suspicion Is Your Name
Your Honesty to Blame
Put Dignity to Shame
Dishonor
Witchhunt Modern Day
Determining Decay
The Blattand Disarray
Disfigure
The Public Eyes' Disgrace
Defying Common Place
Unending Paper Chase
Unending
Deafening
Painstaking
Reckoning
This Vertigo it Doth Bring
Shortest Straw
Challenge Liberty
Downed by Law
Live in Infamy
Rub You Raw
Witchhunt Riding Through
Shortest Straw
This Shortest Straw Has Been Pulled for You
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Shortest Straw Has Been Pulled for You
The Accusations Fly
Discrimination
song performed by by Metallica from ...And Justice For All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slow And Steady (Based on the Tortoise and the Hare)
As usual an argument
An argument arose
In the poppy field
Next to the red rose
It was between the mouse and the cat
(No worse enemies existed than that!)
In the end they had a bet
Whoever won, he would get
The poppy field for his own to live in
While the one who lost would be given
"Exile, banished from here forever! "
Said the cat (who really was very clever.)
The mouse thought: "What nonsense!
But it'll be ME who'll win
And that cat will have to live
In the garbage bins! "
But before the mouse could get a word out,
The cat who had been prancing about
Cleared his throat, "I declare!
The competition shall be judged by the hare.
We are going to have a magnificent race,
Poor mousie won't be able to keep up the pace! "
There mouse stood, flabbergasted as ever!
Really, that cat, was sly and clever,
He knew mouse couldn't run at all!
He'd just trip over his tail and fall!
But (though worried he was) he had to do it,
Yes, mouse had to go and prove it,
He would run faster than any cat,
He would run like the wind and knock- them- flat!
The next day dawned, pearly and white,
But the poor mouse was pale with fright!
As he stood in his place
Ready for the race
The cat yawned, as if bored with all this!
When the starting goose gave a hiss,
"Ready, set, GO! "Shouted the hare aloud
The cat ran fast, leaving behind a cloud
Of dust, and the mouse ran as fast as he could
"I'll win this race! I'd do anything to, I would! "
As the cat ran ahead he couldn't help but think:
"There's no way that the mouse can pass me! "
I got ahead in an eye's blink!
Why don't I settle down for a nap?
I have to run only one more lap,
I can rest my eyes for just a little while,
Mouse probably hasn't even run half a mile!
There don't seem to be any chances
Of mousie passing me, I'll win, I'll win! "
And he made quite a din.
The cat settled down in the shade,
Of a tree in a peaceful glade.
He slept soundly, till the mouse had gone on ahead
While the cat was snoozing on his primrose bed!
When the cat finally rose, it was just too late!
And though he ran fast (in a bedraggled state.)
He just couldn't make it, the mouse had got the lead
And crossed the finish line (leaving the cat in defeat! !)
The mouse had won, he'd proved Cat wrong,
Who walked away, singing a mournful song:
"I was boastful and full of myself, it's true
And now I've lost the race, I don't know what to do!
I'm sorry that I looked at mouse with scorn! "
And the cat traipsed by, looking forlorn.
" Dear Cat, you're looking blue, "
Said the mouse, "I feel sorry for you.
How about we divide the Poppy field
Between us, one half for me, the other for you? "
And of course the cat agreed!
He'd learned a lesson indeed!
"Slow and steady wins the race."
Said the mouse, in first place....
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A great tribute
A great tribute to cricket legend....
It was solid and impregnable wall
Given the signal and made a final call
World may remember his contribution
An honor to country and to institution as well
What a tiring game to retire
Thousands applaud and admire
Cricket is gentleman's game
Where people excel and earn the fame
"Rahul "is such a shining star
Ruled the scene for decades and waged a war
Made the game as holy temple
Worshipped till last saved all from any troubles
Bright record with memorable feat
We shall bow our head and greet
Such a star is never born again
The retirement is really a pain
We may miss his absence
The people around may remain tense
Yet game is game and one has to declare plan
Swim over the water and go peacefully with calm
* "Rahul Dravid "is cricketer from India
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Opening of the Piano
IN the little southern parlor of tbe house you may have seen
With the gambrel-roof, and the gable looking westward to the green,
At the side toward the sunset, with the window on its right,
Stood the London-made piano I am dreaming of to-night!
Ah me! how I remember the evening when it came!
What a cry of eager voices, what a group of cheeks in flame,
When the wondrous box was opened that had come from over seas,
With its smell of mastic-varnish and its flash of ivory keys!
Then the children all grew fretful in the restlessness of joy,
For the boy would push his sister, and the sister crowd the boy,
Till the father asked for quiet in his grave paternal way,
But the mother hushed the tumult with the words, "Now, Mary, play."
For the dear soul knew that music was a very sovereign balm;
She had sprinkled it over Sorrow and seen its brow grow calm,
In the days of slender harpsichords with tapping tinkling quills,
Or carolling to her spinet with its thin metallic thrills.
So Mary, the household minstrel, who always loved to please,
Sat down to the new "Clementi," and struck the glittering keys.
Hushed were the children's voices, and every eye grew dim,
As, floating from lip and finger, arose the "Vesper Hymn."
Catharine, child of a neighbor, curly and rosy-red,
(Wedded since, and a widow,-- something like ten years dead,)
Hearing a gush of music such as none before,
Steals from her mother's chamber and peeps at the open door.
Just as the "Jubilate" in threaded whisper dies,
"Open it! open it, lady!" the little maiden cries,
(For she thought 't was a singing creature caged in a box she heard,)
"Open it! open it, lady! and let me see the bird!"
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Popcorn, Glass Balls, and Cranberries
I. THE LION
The Lion is a kingly beast.
He likes a Hindu for a feast.
And if no Hindu he can get,
The lion-family is upset.
He cuffs his wife and bites her ears
Till she is nearly moved to tears.
Then some explorer finds the den
And all is family peace again.
II. AN EXPLANATION OF THE GRASSHOPPER
The Grasshopper, the grasshopper,
I will explain to you:—
He is the Brownies' racehorse,
The fairies' Kangaroo.
III. THE DANGEROUS LITTLE BOY FAIRIES
In fairyland the little boys
Would rather fight than eat their meals.
They like to chase a gauze-winged fly
And catch and beat him till he squeals.
Sometimes they come to sleeping men
Armed with the deadly red-rose thorn,
And those that feel its fearful wound
Repent the day that they were born.
IV. THE MOUSE THAT GNAWED THE OAK-TREE DOWN
The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down
Began his task in early life.
He kept so busy with his teeth
He had no time to take a wife.
He gnawed and gnawed through sun and rain
When the ambitious fit was on,
Then rested in the sawdust till
A month of idleness had gone.
He did not move about to hunt
The coteries of mousie-men.
He was a snail-paced, stupid thing
Until he cared to gnaw again.
The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down,
When that tough foe was at his feet —
Found in the stump no angel-cake
Nor buttered bread, nor cheese, nor meat —
The forest-roof let in the sky.
"This light is worth the work," said he.
"I'll make this ancient swamp more light,"
And started on another tree.
V. PARVENU
Where does Cinderella sleep?
By far-off day-dream river.
A secret place her burning Prince
Decks, while his heart-strings quiver.
Homesick for our cinder world,
Her low-born shoulders shiver;
She longs for sleep in cinders curled —
We, for the day-dream river.
VI. THE SPIDER AND THE GHOST OF THE FLY
Once I loved a spider
When I was born a fly,
A velvet-footed spider
With a gown of rainbow-dye.
She ate my wings and gloated.
She bound me with a hair.
She drove me to her parlor
Above her winding stair.
To educate young spiders
She took me all apart.
My ghost came back to haunt her.
I saw her eat my heart.
VII. CRICKETS ON A STRIKE
The foolish queen of fairyland
From her milk-white throne in a lily-bell,
Gave command to her cricket-band
To play for her when the dew-drops fell.
But the cold dew spoiled their instruments
And they play for the foolish queen no more.
Instead those sturdy malcontents
Play sharps and flats in my kitchen floor.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abelard and Heloïse
["There are so many things I want to talk to you about." Abelard probably said to Heloïse, "but how can I when I can only think about kissing you?" --KATHARINE LANE in the Evening Mail.]
Said Abelard to Heloïse:
"Your tresses blowing in the breeze
Enchant my soul; your cheek allures;
I never knew such lips as yours."
Said Heloïse to Abelard:
"I know that it is cruel, hard,
To make you fold your yearning arms
And think of things besides my charms."
Said Abelard to Heloïse:
"Pray, lets discuss the Portuguese;
Their status in the League of Nations.
. . . . Come, slip me seven osculations.
"The Fourteen Points," said Heloïse,
"Are pure Woodrovian fallacies."
Said Abelard: "Ten times fourteen
The points you have, O beaucoup queen!"
"Lay off," said Heloïse, "all that stuff.
I've heard the same old thing enough."
"But," answered Abelard, "your lips
Put all my thoughts into eclipse."
"O Abelard," said Heloïse,
"Don't take so many liberties."
"I do it but to show regard."
And Heloïse told her chum that night
That Abelard was Awful Bright;
And--thus is drawn the cosmic plan--
She loved an Intellectual Man.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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