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
- Аля Кудряшева – Невозможно держать в памяти все человечество
- Spring poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- A Song Of The Future. by Sidney Lanier
- As I Walked Out One Evening by W. H. Auden
- Robert Burns: On Politics:
- Gift Of The Great – English Translation by Rabindranath Tagore
- “Behold Vale! I Said, When I Shall Con” by William Wordsworth
- Poem (The lump of coal my parents teased) by William Matthews
- A Te Deum poem – Alfred Austin
- Spenserian Stanzas On Charles Armitage Brown poem – John Keats poems
- This Month The Almonds Bloom At Kandahar
- Ольга Берггольц – Стихи о себе
- A Passing Glimpse by Robert Frost
- Ribbons & Pearls by Timothy Cole
- Daybreak In A Garden by Siegfried Sassoon
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.