Toads (Philip Larkin Poem)
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork And ...
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork And ...
The diggings were just in their glory when Alister Cameron came, With recommendations, he told me, from friends and a ...
I met her on the Lachlan Side -- A darling girl I thought her, And ere I left I swore ...
Just past dawn, the sun stands with its heavy red head in a black stanchion of trees, waiting for someone ...
All winter the fire devoured everything -- tear-stained elegies, old letters, diaries, dead flowers. When April finally arrived, I opened ...
1. Sunlight There was a sunlit absence. The helmeted pump in the yard heated its iron, water honeyed in the ...
As a child, they could not keep me from wells And old pumps with buckets and windlasses. I loved the ...
I was six when I first saw kittens drown. Dan Taggart pitched them, 'the scraggy wee shits', Into a bucket; ...
A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket - And you listening. A ...
I AM now,--what joy to hear it!-- Of the old magician rid; And henceforth shall ev'ry spirit Do whate'er by ...
What I carry the wisdom of like the experiences of my walk the words of his life Filling my bucket ...
Into his bucket, his cup into his life they poured living waters, in the name of Christ filling him with ...
Hidden amid the rocks, the shells under the seaweeds, the driftwood sitting proudly on the sand Clear, green, brown, or ...
I remember so clearly, the woman at the well challenging the One with immediate questions, thinking in the now, what ...
Raspberry picking led to its own reward scratches, barbs, rash and burn all were a part of the process persistence ...
Ears Revel oh they sure do at the utter joy in her war cry charging into battle bucket in hand ...
Under the canopy over the lake on the flat surface of the pier next to the boat moored there I ...
Two fish Under the spell Of the fisherman. One in the bucket One on the line, Hook deep into flesh. ...
Angry, oooh were they angry . bursting, flying out of that hole, next to the foundation by the lilac bush ...
From where I lingered in a lull in march outside the sugar-house one night for choice, I called the fireman ...
Liner Notes - (from No More Mister Nice Girl) I was having a foul day. Some geezer harrassed me on ...
Memory: I can take my head and strike it on a wall on Cumberland Island Where the night tide came ...
I know where Wells grow -- Droughtless Wells -- Deep dug -- for Summer days -- Where Mosses go no ...
Night's grating of steel on stone and splash of water crashing from the buckets brings back that moment in a ...
It had been four days of no weather as if nature had conceded its genius to the indoors. They'd closed ...
The brown enormous odor he lived by was too close, with its breathing and thick hair, for him to judge. ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in drag here comes nothing to do all day long ...
Somewhere at some time They committed themselves to me And so, I was! Small, but I WAS! Tiny, in shape ...
Wheeling them in, the yard gate at half-mast with its ticking hinge, the tin bucket with a hairnet of webs, ...
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