Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,
Shaped in the comfort of the last to go
As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no heart to put aside the theft.
And turn again to what it started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
Long fallen wide. You can see how it was:
Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the piano stool. That vase.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Khristna And His Flute
- Михаил Кузмин – В густом лесу мы дождь пережидали
- Epigram—Thanks for a National Victory by Robert Burns
- Sorry by Tom Mukasa
- Over The Hill From The Poor-House by Will McKendree Carleton
- Eloisa to Abelard poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- A man went before a strange God by Stephen Crane
- “Give me October’s meditative haze” poem – Alfred Austin
- The Dolls by William Butler Yeats
- Николай Заболоцкий – Кулак, владыка батраков
- Promise Me Rain Retold by Roberto Cocina
- Casualty by Winifred Mary Letts
- Владимир Корнилов – АЯМ
- The Mystic Isle by Rainbow Reed
- Зинаида Александрова – Подснежник
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
Philip Arthur Larkin (1922-1985), Commander of the Order of the British Empire, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, Cavalier of the Order of the Companions of Honour, was an English poet, novelist, and librarian.