Poetry Page

I really like Poetry but I wasn't sure if I should put n e poetry on this page, but I decided that I should have people give me poems instead of me just typing up a bunch of poems!

So if you have n e poems at all that you would like 2 send me, then that is ok! And i might just add in a couple of my own...but for now here is a poem by Emily Dickinson that is my favorite!

Hope
Hope is a thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

and sweetest in the Gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm

I've seen it in the chillest land
and on the strangest sea
yet never in extremity
it asked a crumb of me

YEY! I love that poem...and I think on that note I will also give you a couple of poems by Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yello wood,
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one travler, 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
But knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted it I should ever come back

I shall be telling this with a sigh
somewhere in ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less travelled by,
and that made all the difference.

Design By Robert Frost

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
on a white heal-all, holding up a moth
like a white piece of rigid satin cloth--
assorted characters of death and blight
mixed ready to begin the morning right,
like the ingrediants of a witches' broth--
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
and dead wings carried like a paper kite.
What had that flower to do with being white,
the wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
what but design of darkness appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small