These are some poems that I thought were really good, so i put them on here. I really never liked poetry until like a couple of weeks ago when I started writing poems. I don't think any of them will be on here. Maybe some time if I get inspired. by the way my favorite poem is Robert Frost- The road not taken.


Spanish

I wanted for my child to be bilingual, to blaspheme in multiple mother tongues.

He has mastered Spanish ahead of me, and written a letter home from a strange language, a land that he has explored, perhaps mastered. While I sat home, worrying, the mothers of eons of adventurers joined me in spirit.

Electrons, to the envy of Penelope, delivered his letter to me. Read to us, the ancient mothers said, in the voice of each of their Spanish sons. But letters are less formal today. He simply wrote:

Spanish is a funny language where the ropa's not rope and the sopa's not soap and the butter is meant to kill you.

Elizabeth Baker



Henry Constable

[My lady's presence makes the roses red]

My lady's presence makes the roses red, Because to see her lips they blush for shame. The lily's leaves, for envy, pale became, And her white hands in them this envy bred. The marigold the leaves abroad doth spread, Because the sun's and her power is the same. The violet of purple colour came. Dyed in the blood she made my heart to shed. In brief: all flowers from her their virtue take; From her sweet breath their sweet smells do proceed; The living heat which her eyebeams doth make Warmeth the ground and quickeneth the seed. The rain, wherewith she watereth the flowers, Falls from mine eyes, which she dissolves in showers.



The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I? I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.