Home Poems
November
by John Clare
The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;
And, if the sun looks through, 'tis with a face
Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon,
When done the journey of her nightly race,
Had found him sleeping, and supplied his place.
For days the shepherds in the fields may be,
Nor mark a patch of sky - blindfold they trace,
The plains, that seem without a bush or tree,
Whistling aloud by guess, to flocks they cannot see.
......
Go Down, Death
by James Weldon Johnson
Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband--weep no more;
Grief-stricken son--weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter --weep no more;
She only just gone home.
Day before yesterday morning,
God was looking down from his great, high heaven,
......
Pullman Porter
by Robert William Service
The porter in the Pullman car
Was charming, as they sometimes are.
He scanned my baggage tags: "Are you
The man who wrote of Lady Lou?"
When I said "yes" he made a fuss -
Oh, he was most assiduous;
And I was pleased to think that he
Enjoyed my brand of poetry.
He was forever at my call,
......
Disabled
by Wilfred Owen
He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.
About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
......
Home
by Irene Kelsey
As we sit beside the fire,
Warm slippers on our feet.
Do we ever stop to think
Of those who seldom eat?
We sit at our tables
Getting stuck into our meals.
But do we ever stop to think
How an empty stomach feels?
......
Finding home
by Martin Gepp
Building a house in a foreign land has an odd sway
Common fears are again in charge of finding a space
Frequent visits of tears usually try to lead the way
And invasive thoughts dislocate reality from it's place
Time struggles to find it's own dominium
Late nights and deep dreams start a delirium
I suddenly wake up and find equilibrium
Just to find a pattern that is written with my past idioms
......
God Or Alien
by Laurence Argyll Simon Noond
Where do we come from,
Why are we here.
Is earth really are home,
Or is it just on loan.
Evolution is the theory,
Its something i would query,
Some say the Big Bang theory,
I find that very dreary.
......
Shoo
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I was a competent, happy housewife, but that was before my husband died,
Leaving me to rear myriad children solo, as the lone star twinkles with pride.
John had left us a prosperous farm, with a lovely home, shaped like a shoe;
And our older children did farm work daily, as they'd ever been wont to do.
My older children were reliable and steadfast, since they were nearly grown;
But, my young ones often got in mischief, and my eldest didn't live at home.
Although I loved my children dearly, they did ofttimes, seem to be in my hair.
......
The Hovel.
by Alexandra Davis
A tiny kitchen
A broken gate
A single bed
And a best mate.
Cups of tea
In doughnut-shaped mugs
That same blue blanket
Plenty of hugs.
Uncut grass
Carpet-less floor
......
When We Were Four
by Jacob George
Dinner each day
The time slowly passes
Four round plates
Two pairs of glasses
Together each day
Never unfurled
Sharing what we had to say
About the world
When summers heat
......
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Robert Louis Stevenson (31 poems about Home)
November 13, 1850 / Edinburgh, Scotland - December 3, 1894 / Vailima, Samoa -
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