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Catch a Falling Star by MM

Go and catch a falling star
It fell from Orion’s belt
Don’t worry, I’m by your side.
Fingers intertwined on one hand with mine
Our others poised to catch the dream
One hand yours and one hand mine.
This dream will be caught together.

Respite by PEA

My heart is like a singing bird– as I soar through purple skies, above the elaborate forests of man.

Then leaving them behind, moving on to greener realms and fresh ocean breezes.

A moment, springing in my breast of music and beauty.

Consider the Sleepless Sheep by PB

When you are old and gray and full of sleep
Pity, please, the insomniac sheep.

While you count lambs jumping o’er hedgerows,
What do sheep ponder to help them doze?

They surely can’t picture other ewes
To help them take a nighttime snooze.

Their lives are so full of daily strains
That tax their humble mutton brains.

When they have burdens and they fret
Because their simple minds are upset,

Perhaps they think of clover sweet
And alfalfa, which they love to eat.

Or they let their wooly thoughts ramble
Through sunny meadows thick with bramble.

They may imagine fluffy clouds passing overhead
Or, like some folks, count blessings instead.

They sigh and say to themselves: “Phew!”
“At least I am not in a plate of lamb stew!”

Spring Break in Storyland by SJ

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
On a Carnival Cruise Line tour.
Owl had a perch with an ocean view and
Kitty loved the fish du jour.

But after a day and a half had passed
Owl was sick and turned green
And kitty’s box was filling up fast
So she turned cranky and mean

The days they just creeped by slowly
And things went from bad to worse
The litter box still wasn’t emptied
And the owl smell was getting perverse.

The ship was adrift with no sight of land
The buffet was rancid at best
And Pussy-Cat rued the day she was born
While Owl could just pine for his nest.

Then finally the Coast Guard got them in tow
And returned them back where they began
Much wiser by far to the ways of the sea
And relieved to be back on dry land.

A Poem by RFT

My heart leaps when I behold
The adults that you’ve become
Your future is yet untold
Pursuing dreams far from home

A Poem by CLL

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Means not a thing to me
Four o’clock boil water on the stove
Slimy lithe the badgers be

The Flipperty-Flop by ED

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gibbelty gump and rumpety rue.
I strained my smartostupous brain
Thinking of loozy, smoothy poems.
But enjoying the crazinoknok flump of my words
I mutterschlumped off into the night.

A Man and His Doggerel by SJ

My heart is like a singing bird
Except it’s soft and squishy.
Perhaps my spleen’s a better match
Or simile that’s pithy.
For spleens denote some passion as
They bring a spark to fire.
And what great love can truly say
No kick start is required?

Ryely by ED

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me…

Every day for him is a happy shout and a joyful jump

He sniffs and snorts and barks and runs the fields with glee

And when night time comes he turns into a little lump

Of sleepy, tired, happy puppy!

A Poem by MG

FLOOD-TIDE below me! I watch you face to face!…

Two fluffy sheep wearing novelty ties, ‘twould be a disgrace…

Except for I, toiling away in my unadorned but comfy sweater…

…with a coffee mug overflowin’ with a righteous, Fair Trade Boho Brew…

Look upon you two as gentle companions fair and true.

A Lover’s Prayer by SJ

Drink to me, only with thine eyes,
As that leaves more wine for me.

A Poem by P Tefft

I wandered lonely as a cloud

looking o’er the library,

until I spied with my eye, a book that spoke to me,

It rose up to meet my look,

as bold as it could be.

I grabbed ahold, then floated on, and took that book with me!

Life and Love by SB

When you are old and gray and full of sleep
I will be too!
We will set the world upon its head
And laugh in delight.

First lines… Title, Poet

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat Went to Sea... by Edward Lear

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!... Sympathy by Paul Laurence Dunbar

My Heart Leaps Up When I Behold... by William Wordsworth

When you are old and gray and full of sleep... When You are Old by William Butler Yeats

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud... by William Wordsworth

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways... (Sonnet 43) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me... My Shadow by Robert Lewis Stevenson

Go and Catch a Falling Star... by John Donne

There Was a Child Went Forth Every Day... by Walt Whitman

FLOOD-TIDE below me! I watch you face to face!... Crossing Brooklyn Ferry by Walt Whitman

If ever two were one, then surely we... To My Dear and Loving Husband by Anne Bradstreet

When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be... by John Keats

Drink to me, only with thine eyes... Song to Celia by Ben Jonson

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back... Love by George Herbert

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves… Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

My heart is like a singing bird… A Birthday by Christina Georgina Rossetti

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat Went to Sea by Edward Lear (Top)

The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are."
Pussy said to the Owl "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O let us be married, too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?"
Said the Piggy, "I will"
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand.
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon,

Sympathy by Paul Laurence Dunbar (Top)

I KNOW what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals —
I know what the caged bird feels!
I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting —
I know why he beats his wing!
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings —
I know why the caged bird sings!

My heart leaps up by William Wordsworth (Top)

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

When You are Old by William Butler Yeats (Top)

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

I wandered lonely as a cloud by William Wordsworth (Top)

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

How do I love thee? (Sonnet 43) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Top)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

My Shadow by Robert Lewis Stevenson (Top)

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

Go and catch a falling star by John Donne (Top)

Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.

If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true, and fair.

If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet;
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three.

There was a child went forth every day by Walt Whitman (Top)

There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass and white and red morning glories, and white and red clover,
And the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month Lambs and the sow's pink-faint litter,
And the mare's foal and the cow's calf...

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry by Walt Whitman (Top)

FLOOD-TIDE below me! I watch you face to face;
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face
to face.

Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious
you are to me!
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning
home, are more curious to me than you suppose;
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to
me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.

To My Dear and Loving Husband by Anne Bradstreet (Top)

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay;
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

When I have fears that I may cease to be by John Keats (Top)

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

Song to Celia by Ben Jonson (Top)

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me;
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

Love by George Herbert (Top)

Love bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lacked any thing.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll (Top)

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.


`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

A Birthday by Christina Georgina Rossetti (Top)

MY heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.
Raise me a daïs of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

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