I want to hear the simmer
Of the old coffee pot;
I want to hear it hummin’
When it’d gettin’ good and hot;
I want to see the vapor rise,
Like incense in the room,
And float about a-fillin’
Every corner with perfume.
~John W. Fellows, “The Old Coffee Pot,”
in The People’s Home Journal, July 1903
Tag Archives: Poems
Retirement Poem – Richard Armour
Retired is being twice tired, I’ve thought
First tired of working,
Then tired of not.
~Richard Armour
Poem: Walt Whitman, Miracles
“As for me, I know nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under the trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love,
Or sleep in bed at night with any one I love,
Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon…
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown,
Or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring…
What stranger miracles are there?”
– Walt Whitman
The Road To Wisdom
The road to wisdom?—Well, it’s plain and simple to express:
Err
and err
and err again
but less
and less
and less.
~Piet Hein, “The Road to Wisdom”
Poetry Quote ~ Paul Engle
“Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.” –
Paul Engle
Lucifer~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poem
Lucifer:
Here’s a brave earth to sin and suffer on….
We’ll sow it thick enough with graves as green
Or greener certes, than its knowledge-tree.
We’ll have the cypress for the tree of life,
More eminent for shadow: for the rest,
We’ll build it dark with towns and pyramids,
And temples, if it please you:—we’ll have feasts
And funerals also, merrymakes and wars,
Till blood and wine shall mix and run along
Right o’er the edges…
~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “A Drama of Exile”
Jamie Lynn Morris Poem
Like butterflies in Spring
Poetry awakens the Spirit,
stirs the imagination and explores
the possibilities with each stroke of its rhythmic wings.
~Jamie Lynn Morris
