Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,
Shaped in the comfort of the last to go
As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no heart to put aside the theft.
And turn again to what it started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
Long fallen wide. You can see how it was:
Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the piano stool. That vase.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Robert Burns: Versified Reply To An Invitation:
- Алишер Навои – Над головой моею осенних дней листопад
- Mummy, mummy who invented school? by Raj Arumugam
- The Hospital On The Shore
- Алишер Навои – То не заросли тюльпанов
- Ирина Гурина – Как пчёлы чуть не поссорились
- Альфред де Мюссе – Как лепестки весеннего цветка
- Зинаида Александрова – Кролики
- Sonnet II. To ****** poem – John Keats poems
- Missing Person by Vinita Agrawal
- What a Glow Everywhere I see – Aaj Rung Hai poem – with a translation Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- Вероника Тушнова – Тень
- In the Name of Eternal Love by Walter William Safar
- Владимир Маяковский – Нормализованная гайка (РОСТА № 171)
- Tears
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
Philip Arthur Larkin (1922-1985), Commander of the Order of the British Empire, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, Cavalier of the Order of the Companions of Honour, was an English poet, novelist, and librarian.