The Prodigal Son (Edith Nesbit Poems)
COME home, come home, for your eyes are soreWith the glare of the noonday sun,And nothing looks as it did ...
COME home, come home, for your eyes are soreWith the glare of the noonday sun,And nothing looks as it did ...
Lene Levi went out in the evening,Mincing, her skirt bunched up,Through the long, empty streetsOf a suburb.And she spoke weeping, ...
No baby in the house, I know,'Tis far too nice and clean.No toys, by careless fingers strewn,Upon the floors are ...
My mind was a mirror: It saw what it saw, it knew what it knew. In youth my mind was ...
Sad is the man who is asked for a story and can't come up with one. His five-year-old son waits ...
Reign of Louis Philippe A great tall column spearing at the sky With a little man on top. Goodness! Tell ...
The porchlight coming on again, Early November, the dead leaves Raked in piles, the wicker swing Creaking. Across the lots ...
Eyes aloft, over dangerous places, The children follow the butterflies, And, in the sweat of their upturned faces, Slash with ...
After the first astounding rush, after the weeks at the lake, the crystal, the clouds, the water lapping the rocks, ...
what's that i'm awake a bang like a door or a foot knocking a chair who's there tense i lie ...
Raspberry picking led to its own reward scratches, barbs, rash and burn all were a part of the process persistence ...
Surrounded by prickers, thorns tugging on my coat, my jeans lowering myself to the dark small fruit gathering in, berry ...
A man is bringing a cup of coffee to his face, tilting it to his mouth. It's historical, he thinks. ...
Gus is the Cat at the Theatre Door. His name, as I ought to have told you before, Is really ...
"SISTER, sister, go to bed! Go and rest your weary head." Thus the prudent brother said. "Do you want a ...
Long-vacant eyes now lodged in clear glass, a-swim with pale arms as delicate as angels' ... you are beyond all ...
Out on the high "bird islands," Ciboux and Hertford, the razorbill auks and the silly-looking puffins all stand with their ...
Anger, as black as a hook, overtakes me. Each day, each Nazi took, at 8:00 A.M., a baby and sauteed ...
It isn't the body That's a stranger. It's someone else. We poke the same Ugly mug At the world. When ...
Sprawl is the quality of the man who cut down his Rolls-Royce into a farm utility truck, and sprawl is ...
My mind was a mirror: It saw what it saw, it knew what it knew. In youth my mind was ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories