Wires (Philip Larkin Poem)
The widest prairies have electric fences, For though old cattle know they must not stray Young steers are always scenting ...
Poems about fences (31 Poems)
Borderland (Henry Lawson Poem)
I am back from up the country -- very sorry that I went -- Seeking for the Southern poets' land ...
When the Children Come Home (Henry Lawson Poem)
On a lonely selection far out in the West An old woman works all the day without rest, And she ...
The Bush Girl (Henry Lawson Poem)
So you rode from the range where your brothers "select," Through the ghostly grey bush in the dawn--- You rode ...
Up The Country (Henry Lawson Poem)
I am back from up the country -- very sorry that I went -- Seeking for the Southern poets' land ...
AFTERNOON IN FEBRUARY (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem)
The day is ending, The night is descending; The marsh is frozen, The river dead. Through clouds like ashes The ...
The Explorer (Rudyard Kipling Poem)
There's no sense in going further -- it's the edge of cultivation," So they said, and I believed it -- ...
Sin (George Herbert Poem)
Lord, with what care hast Thou begirt us round! Parents first season us; then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws;-they send ...
Far In a Western Brookland (A. E. Housman Poem)
Far in a western brookland That bred me long ago The poplars stand and tremble By pools I used to ...
equanimity (Rg Gregory Poem)
october stops the pretence that somehow summer should still be loitering around it walks through the garden hanging the spiders ...
Out behind our yard (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Out behind our yard in the far right corner just to the right beyond the boundary, the fences a disturbed ...
Fences (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
By claiming the creator we create fences, hemming in the divine that God loves one group, one people more than ...
Chevy in the Grass (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
A horse in the small pasture beside the barn a Chevy in the grass hidden from view almost behind the ...
Dogwoods of Yale (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
A walk in spring to calm interview nerves smell of dogwood a burst of soft color, if pastels can burst, ...
The ride to bumpville (Eugene Field Poem)
Play that my knee was a calico mare Saddled and bridled for Bumpville; Leap to the back of this steed, ...
The Dog And His Master (Anne Kingsmill Finch Poem)
NO better Dog e'er kept his Master's Door Than honest Snarl, who spar'd nor Rich nor Poor; But gave the ...
On The Hurricane (Anne Kingsmill Finch Poem)
You have obey'd, you WINDS, that must fulfill The Great Disposer's righteous Will; Throughout the Land, unlimited you flew, Nor ...
II. The Pauper Witch of Grafton (Robert Frost Poem)
Now that they've got it settled whose I be, I'm going to tell them something they won't like: They've got ...
Mending Wall (Robert Frost Poem)
Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it And spills the upper boulder in ...
Ghost House (Robert Frost Poem)
I DWELL in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago, And left no trace but the ...
Morning Worship (Mark van Doren Poem)
I wake and hearing it raining. Were I dead, what would I give Lazily to lie here, Like this, and ...
The Bird did prance — the Bee did play — (Emily Dickinson Poem)
The Bird did prance -- the Bee did play -- The Sun ran miles away So blind with joy he ...
I’m sorry for the Dead — Today — (Emily Dickinson Poems)
I'm sorry for the Dead -- Today -- It's such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences -- It's time ...
There came a Wind like a Bugle — (Emily Dickinson Poem)
There came a wind like a bugle It quivered through the GRASS, And a green chill upon the heat So ...
The Hunt (Ivan Donn Carswell Poem)
The hunt begins at a languid pace belying hysteria building in place, biding its time to menace the peace in ...
Good neighbours (Ivan Donn Carswell Poem)
To my shame I've been mending fences again. a quaint habit I inherited from my father; he would rather fix ...
Courage is a motherless lamb (Ivan Donn Carswell Poem)
For a small child crossing the pen alone was a courageous feat, occasionally, with a maniacal bleat, the wether would ...
Agoraphobia (John Burnside Poem)
My whole world is all you refuse: a black light, angelic and cold on the path to the orchard, fox-runs ...
Part 3 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a three-legged crow on the ...
Roosters (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the ...