Poem by Simon Armitage

And if it snowed and snow covered the drive he took a spade and tossed it to one side. And always tucked his daughter up at night And slippered her the one time that she lied. And every week he tipped up half his wage. And what he didn't spend each week he saved. And…

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Freedom and Love by Thomas Campbell

How delicious is the winning Of a kiss at love's beginning, When two mutual hearts are sighing For the knot there's no untying! Yet remember, 'Midst our wooing, Love has bliss, but Love has ruing; Other smiles may make you fickle, Tears for other charms may trickle. Love he comes, and Love he tarries, Just…

The Burning Babe by Robert Southwell

As I in hoary winter’s night stood shivering in the snow, Surpris’d I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow; And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near, A pretty Babe all burning bright did in the air appear; Who, scorched with excessive heat, such floods of tears…

Luke Havergal by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Go to the western gate, Luke Havergal, There where the vines cling crimson on the wall, And in the twilight wait for what will come. The leaves will whisper there of her, and some, Like flying words, will strike you as they fall; But go, and if you listen she will call. Go to the…

Looking Back by Michael Cantor

There was a marriage once where she would paint from midnight until six a.m., and he would rise as she slid into bed, and she would sleep past noon, and wake, and reacquaint herself with friends, and smile without complaint as he came home too late each night; and he was no more bothered by…

Hurried Love by Gavin Ewart

Those who make hurried love don’t do so from any lack of affection or because they despise their partner as a human being – what they’re doing is just as sincere as a more formal wooing. She may have a train to catch; perhaps the room is theirs for one hour only or a mother…

Office Friendships by Gavin Ewart

Eve is madly in love with Hugh And Hugh is keen on Jim. Charles is in love with very few And few are in love with him. Myra sits typing notes of love With romantic pianist’s fingers. Dick turns his eyes to the heavens above Where Fran’s divine perfume lingers. Nicky is rolling eyes and…

The Watch by Frances Cornford

I wakened on my hot, hard bed; Upon the pillow lay my head; Beneath the pillow I could hear My little watch was ticking clear. I thought the throbbing of it went Like my continual discontent, I thought it said in every tick: I am so sick, so sick, so sick; O death, come quick,…