Archive for the ‘My Favorite Poems’ Category

Posted on May 21, 2008 - by rdilipk1

Ode to the West Wind

This is one of the best poems written by P.B.Shelley. His description of the nature and the evening in this poem is beautiful.’, ‘

I

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’’s being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow

Posted on March 30, 2008 - by rdilipk1

On a Poet’s Lips I Slept

P.B.Shelley has been one of my alltime favorite poets. His poems carried a touching meaning in it and was an easy read and understand. “On a Poet’’s Lips I Slept” he talks about how a poet gives birth to his creations from nothing.’, ‘On a poet’’s lips I slept
Dreaming like a love-adept
In the sound his breathing kept;
Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses,
But feeds on the aerial kisses
Of shapes that haunt thought’’s wildernesses.
He will watch from dawn to gloom
The lake-reflected sun illume
The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom,
Nor heed nor see what things they be;
But from these create he can
Forms more real than living man,
Nurslings of immortality!
One of these awakened me,
And I sped to succour thee.

Posted on October 27, 2007 - by rdilipk1

Teary Questions

There are lots of things in this world which are born and then die for others, as if that was the very purpose of their birth. Tears are one of them. This is a poem I wrote on tears.

Eyes opened wide for a moment,

And then it closed,

Eyelids blinked just for a while,

Perhaps to cry, or was it to smile,

I wonder,

But then that drop of pearl,

Just peeped out of the eye,

And asked me a questions few,

Should I fall and shall I die?

Posted on October 15, 2007 - by rdilipk1

The Solitary Reaper

My alltime favorite poet has always been William Wordsworth. What I liked the best in his poems is the way he describes the surroundings of the subject. One such poem is “The Solitary Reaper”.’, ‘

Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

Posted on October 13, 2007 - by rdilipk1

The Solitude of Alexander Selkirk

I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute,
From the center all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.

I am out of humanity’s reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech,–
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Posted on October 10, 2007 - by rdilipk1

A Red Red Rose

My love is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June :
My love is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I :
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun :
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel a while !
And I will come again, my love,
Thou’ it were ten thousand mile.

Posted on September 23, 2007 - by rdilipk1

Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead

On wars and battles, my favorite poem is “Home they brought her warrior dead” written by Lord Alfred Tennyson. The emotions depicted in the poem is simply amazing.’, ‘

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
“She must weep or she will die.”

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,

Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Posted on September 9, 2007 - by rdilipk1

Sally in our alley

Of all the girls that are so smart
There’s none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land
Is half so sweet as Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage-nets,
And through the streets does cry ‘em;
Her mother she sells laces long
To such as please to buy ‘em;
But sure such folks could ne’er beget
So sweet a girl as Sally!
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Posted on August 28, 2007 - by rdilipk1

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

This is one of my all time favorite poems which has a lot meaning in it. Written by Robert Frost, it clearly touches any heart. And of course, there is miles to go before I sleep…’, ‘

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.