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

I use this place too. I keep finding things to add, change, or make a little better.

Latest check: 1,242 passed. Regular checks, ongoing improvements.

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

THE MODERN POET

Ballad of women i love

By Eugene Field

Prudence Mears hath an old blue plate Hid away in an oaken chest, And a Franklin platter of ancient date Beareth Amandy Baker's crest; What times soever I've been their guest, Says I to myself in an undertone: "Of womenfolk, it must be confessed, These do I love, and these alone." Well, again, in the Nutmeg State, Dorothy Pratt is richly blest With a relic of art and a land effete-- A pitcher of glass that's cut, not pressed. And a Washington teapot is possessed Down in Pelham by Marthy Stone-- Think ye now that I say in jest "These do I love, and these alone?" Were Hepsy Higgins inclined to mate, Or Dorcas Eastman prone to invest In Cupid's bonds, they could find their fate In the bootless bard of Crockery Quest. For they've heaps of trumpery--so have the rest Of those spinsters whose ware I'd like to own; You can see why I say with such certain zest, "These do I love, and these alone."

Original source ↗

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

Explore The Modern Poet ↗

POETRY. PHILOSOPHY. THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE.

Something to read.
Something to feel.

Your work, and voices from around the world.
Poetry, poetic philosophy, and the people behind it.

Riddle of the day ↗

A little rhyme. Something to turn over. Tomorrow, a possible answer.

Explore public sources. Read the work where it was shared.

A moment with the words.

A note on the rotation

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.

THERE’S ROOM FOR YOUR VOICE.

Got something to say?
Leave it here.

A poem. A picture. Both. Sign your name, use a pen name,
or stay anonymous. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.

YOUR WORDS. YOUR WAY.

Leave something here.

Post a poem, a picture, or both. No profile needed.

Picture-only posts are welcome. No nudity or sexual images. Images stay in your private local queue pending review; automated screening is not connected in this preview.

A little bird, optional.

Artwork becomes the small icon; without artwork, your companion takes its place. You can also leave the small icon blank. Preview everything and change your mind before posting. No account needed.

You keep ownership of your work. Posting availability is checked before you submit. Passing work publishes; flagged work waits privately for the owner.