The Kidz Library

DunnoKidz

Pass The Poems, Please

Pass the poem please
Pile them on my plate
Put them right in front of me
For I can hardly wait
To take each tangy word
To try each tasty rhyme
And when I’ve tried them once or twice
I’ll try them one more time:
So pass the poems please
They just won’t leave my head
I have to have more poems
Before I go to bed.

~ Jane Baskwill

DunnoKidz

Door in the Mountain
~ Jean Valentine

"You were willing to like me,
and I did something, and blew it,
and your liking me would have saved me,
and my liking you would have saved you,
that was the circle I was walking around,
pushing a bar that moved a wheel,
down in the dark, holding my breath,
...hating my feet, hating my path,
...full of tears, full of light, half both,
nowhere near my old home:
no one anywhere is so wrong."

DunnoKidz

Alastor: Or, The Spirit of Solitude and Other Poems
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

...'Tis the haunt
Of every gentle wind, whose breath can teach
The wilds to love tranquillity. One step,
One human step alone, has ever broken
The stillness of its solitude:—one voice
Alone inspired its echoes;—even that voice
Which hither came, floating among the winds
And led the loveliest among human forms
To make their wild haunts the depository
Of all the grace and beauty that endued
Its motions, render up its majesty,
Scatter its music on the unfeeling storm…

DunnoKidz

Collected Sonnets
~ Edna St Vincent Millay

If in the years to come you should recall,
When faint at heart or fallen on hungry days,
Or full of griefs and little if at all
From them distracted by delights or praise;
When failing powers or good opinion lost
Have bowed your neck, should you recall to mind
How of all men I honoured you the most,
Holding you noblest among mortal-kind:
Might not my love—although the curving blade
From whose wide mowing none may hope to hide,
Me long ago below the frosts had laid—
Restore you somewhat to your former pride?
Indeed I think this memory, even then,
Must raise you high among the run of men.

DunnoKidz

The Collected Poems of Hazel Hall

Beauty streamed into my hand
In sunlight through a pane of glass;
Now at last I understand
Why suns must pass.
I have held a shadow, cool
Reflection of a burning gold,
And it has been more beautiful
Than hands should hold.

To that delicate tracery
Of light, a force my lips must name
In whispers of uncertainty,
Has answered through me in a flame.
Beauty is the core of fire
To reaching hands; even its far
Passing leaves a hurt desire
Like a scar.