My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.
- Walter de la Mare Jagg'd mountain peaks and skies ice-green Wall in the wild, cold scene below. Churches, farms, bare copse, the sea In…
- e.e. cummings unloves's the heavenless hell and homeless home of knowledgeable shadows(quick to seize each nothing which all souless…
- A.A. Milne (This is a poem that has always charmed me, probably because of the last stanza) James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree…