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
- I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded poem – A. E. Housman
- From: The Home We Will Never Live In That Place by Nijole Miliauskaite
- The Fair Singer poem – Andrew Marvell poems
- Кипение
- The Dreadful Has Already Happened by Mark Strand
- Алексей Плещеев – Молчание
- REFLECTING THE PRAISES by Satish Verma
- Владимир Корнилов – 26 апреля
- The Blue Guitar by P. K. Page
- Нина Найденова – Наши игрушки
- sea_salt_a_villanelle.html
- Шекспир – Люблю твои глаза – Сонет 132
- Robert Burns: Poortith Cauld And Restless Love:
- A CANTICLE TO APOLLO by Robert Herrick
- Sonnet Of Motherhood XL poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
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.