John Betjeman Poems

  • 1.
    We used to picnic where the thrift
    Grew deep and tufted to the edge;
    We saw the yellow foam flakes drift
    In trembling sponges on the ledge
    ...
  • 2.
    Cut down that timber! Bells, too many and strong,
    Pouring their music through the branches bare,
    From moon-white church towers down the windy air
    Have pealed the centuries out with Evensong.
    ...
  • 3.
    I made hay while the sun shone.
    My work sold.
    Now, if the harvest is over
    And the world cold,
    ...
  • 4.
    Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
    It isn't fit for humans now,
    There isn't grass to graze a cow.
    Swarm over, Death!
    ...
  • 5.
    Kind o'er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy,
    White o'er the playpen the sheen of her dress,
    Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery
    Soap scented fingers I long to caress.
    ...
  • 6.
    “Let us not speak, for the love we bear one another-
    Let us hold hands and look.”
    She such a very ordinary little woman;
    He such a thumping crook;
    ...
  • 7.
    The heavy mahogany door with its wrought-iron screen
    Shuts. And the sound is rich, sympathetic, discreet.
    The sun still shines on this eighteenth-century scene
    With Edwardian faience adornment-Devonshire Street.
    ...
Total 7 Poems by John Betjeman

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House 3 Sun 3 Hold 2 Children 2 Light 2 White 2 World 2 Heavy 2 Silver 2 Black 2

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Poem of the day

Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poem
Upon The Sand
 by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

All love that has not friendship for its base,
Is like a mansion built upon the sand.
Though brave its walls as any in the land,
And its tall turrets lift their heads in grace;
Though skillful and accomplished artists trace
Most beautiful designs on every hand,
And gleaming statues in dim niches stand,
And mountains play in some flow'r-hidden place:
...

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