Little Boy Blue (George MacDonald Poems)
Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood—Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey:He said, "I would not go ...
Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood—Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey:He said, "I would not go ...
30 dogs, 20 men on 20 horses and one fox and look here, they write, you are a dupe for ...
"Teapots and Quails,Snuffers and Snails,Set him a sailingand see how he sails!..Mitres and Beams,Thimbles and Creams,Set him a screamingand hark! ...
The saddle was hung on the stockyard rail,And the poor old horse stood whisking his tail,For there never was seen ...
" What fire glows under her skirt! What sparrow is gnawing at his heart! The April air is slapping him ...
After a Print by George Cruikshank It was a gusty night, With the wind booming, and swooping, Looping round corners, ...
I want to understand the steep thing that climbs ladders in your throat. I can't make sense of you. Everywhere ...
for Greg Fallon A kid yells "Mother Fucker" out the school bus window. I don't think anyone notices the afternoon ...
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit- man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with ...
He is said to have been the last Red man In Action. And the Miller is said to have laughed-- ...
Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both. HERE I am, ...
SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a three-legged crow on the ...
Not under foreign skies Nor under foreign wings protected - I shared all this with my own people There, where ...
Here, in the room of my life the objects keep changing. Ashtrays to cry into, the suffering brother of the ...
Coon, why did you come to this dance with a mask on? Why not the tin man and his rainbow ...
My worldly wealth I hoard in albums three, My life collection of rare postage stamps; My room is cold and ...
We sat across the table. he said, cut off your hands. they are always poking at things. they might touch ...
You see, the thing was this way -- there was me, That rode Panopply, the Splendor mare, And Ikey Chambers ...
Unspeakable. The word that fills up the poem, that the head tries to excise. At 6 a.m., the wet lion. ...
If you live along with all the other people and are just like them, and conform, and are nice you're ...
You pull over to the shoulder of the two-lane road and sit for a moment wondering where you were going ...
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