Poems about sill (31 Poems)
Gerontion (T. S. Eliot Poem)
Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both. HERE I am, an old man in a dry month, Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain. I was neither at … Continue reading
Television (Roald Dahl Poem)
The most important thing we’ve learned, So far as children are concerned, Is never, NEVER, NEVER let Them near your television set – Or better still, just don’t install The idiotic thing at all. In almost every house we’ve been, … Continue reading
“Mike Teavee…” (Roald Dahl Poem)
The most important thing we’ve learned, So far as children are concerned, Is never, NEVER, NEVER let Them near your television set – Or better still, just don’t install The idiotic thing at all. In almost every house we’ve been, … Continue reading
The way Hope builds his House (Emily Dickinson Poem)
The way Hope builds his House It is not with a sill – Nor Rafter — has that Edifice But only Pinnacle – Abode in as supreme This superficies As if it were of Ledges smit Or mortised with the … Continue reading
The Judge is like the Owl — (Emily Dickinson Poem)
The Judge is like the Owl – I’ve heard my Father tell – And Owls do build in Oaks – So here’s an Amber Sill – That slanted in my Path – When going to the Barn – And if … Continue reading
Noon — is the Hinge of Day — (Emily Dickinson Poem)
Noon — is the Hinge of Day – Evening — the Tissue Door – Morning — the East compelling the sill Till all the World is ajar – (Emily Dickinson)
Falsehood of Thee could I suppose (Emily Dickinson Poem)
Falsehood of Thee could I suppose ‘Twould undermine the Sill To which my Faith pinned Block by Block Her Cedar Citadel. (Emily Dickinson)
Behind the Arras (Bliss Carman Poem)
I like the old house tolerably well, Where I must dwell Like a familiar gnome; And yet I never shall feel quite at home. I love to roam. Day after day I loiter and explore From door to door; So … Continue reading
The Miller’s Tale (Geoffrey Chaucer Poems)
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, That he not said it was a noble story, And worthy to be *drawen to memory*; *recorded* And *namely the … Continue reading
A Shropshire Lad (John Betjeman Poem)
The gas was on in the Institute, The flare was up in the gym, A man was running a mineral line, A lass was singing a hymn, When Captain Webb the Dawley man, Captain Webb from Dawley, Came swimming along … Continue reading