The Modern PoetFor your words and others.
Release 15
Always tinkering.

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This round: quieter reading, book-style chapters, and one HH throughout.

THE MODERN POET

Words

By Edward Thomas

OUT of us all That make rhymes, Will you choose Sometimes-- As the winds use A crack in a wall Or a drain, Their joy or their pain To whistle through-- Choose me, You English words? I know you: You are light as dreams, Tough as oak, Precious as gold, As poppies and corn, Or an old cloak: Sweet as our birds To the ear, As the burnet rose In the heat Of Midsummer: Strange as the races Of dead and unborn: Strange and sweet Equally, And familiar, To the eye, As the dearest faces That a man knows, And as lost homes are: But though older far Than oldest yew,-- As our hills are, old.-- Worn new Again and again: Young as our streams After rain: And as dear As the earth which you prove That we love. Make me content With some sweetness From Wales Whose nightingales Have no wings,-- From Wiltshire and Kent And Herefordshire, And the villages there,-- From the names, and the things No less. Let me sometimes dance With you, Or climb Or stand perchance In ecstasy, Fixed and free In a rhyme, As poets do.

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Poetry data from PoetryDB, curated by The Combed Thunderclap · metadata CC BY 4.0 · Public-domain poem text (USA)

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POETRY. PHILOSOPHY. THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE.

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Box one belongs to works shared here—pictures, poems, or both—with a new selection each hour. The other three change one at a time every fifteen minutes. One is a Halloween poem through October. Skip any card, or pause while you read.

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