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Famous Short Boat Poems. Short Boat Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short Boat Poems. Short Boat Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Boat short poems

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

 
by Paul Eluard

The River

 The river I have under my tongue,
Unimaginable water, my little boat,
And curtains lowered, let's speak.


by Walter Savage Landor

Dirce

 Stand close around, ye Stygian set,
With Dirce in one boat conveyed,
Or Charon, seeing, may forget
That he is old and she a shade.


by Edward Lear

There was an Old Man in a boat

There was an Old Man in a boat,
Who said, "I'm afloat! I'm afloat!"
When they said, "No, you ain't!" he was ready to faint,
That unhappy Old Man in a boat.


by Mother Goose

Dance To Your Daddie

 

Dance to your daddie,
My bonnie laddie;
Dance to your daddie, my bonnie lamb;
You shall get a fishy,
On a little dishy;
You shall get a fishy, when the boat comes home.


by Li Po

Through the YangZi Gorges

 From the walls of Baidi high in the coloured dawn 
To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles, 
Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me 
To my boat these ten thousand mountains away.


by Li Bai

Through the YangZi Gorges

From the walls of Baidi high in the coloured dawn

To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles,

Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me

To my boat these ten thousand mountains away.


by Carl Sandburg

Lost

 DESOLATE and lone
All night long on the lake
Where fog trails and mist creeps,
The whistle of a boat
Calls and cries unendingly,
Like some lost child
In tears and trouble
Hunting the harbor's breast
And the harbor's eyes.


by Emily Dickinson

Witchcraft was hung in History

 'Twas such a little -- little boat
That toddled down the bay!
'Twas such a gallant -- gallant sea
That beckoned it away!

'Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the Coast --
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!


by Emily Dickinson

Twas such a little -- little boat

 'Twas such a little -- little boat
That toddled down the bay!
'Twas such a gallant -- gallant sea
That beckoned it away!

'Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the Coast --
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!


by Emily Dickinson

She staked her Feathers -- Gained an Arc --

 She staked her Feathers -- Gained an Arc --
Debated -- Rose again --
This time -- beyond the estimate
Of Envy, or of Men --

And now, among Circumference --
Her steady Boat be seen --
At home -- among the Billows -- As
The Bough where she was born --


by Li Po

Leaving White King City

 White King City I left at dawn
in the morning-glow of the clouds;
The thousand miles to Chiang-ling
we sailed in a single day.
On either shore the gibbons' chatter sounded without pause While my light boat skimmed past ten thousand sombre crags.


by Walt Whitman

Here Sailor.

 WHAT ship, puzzled at sea, cons for the true reckoning? 
Or, coming in, to avoid the bars, and follow the channel, a perfect pilot needs? 
Here, sailor! Here, ship! take aboard the most perfect pilot, 
Whom, in a little boat, putting off, and rowing, I, hailing you, offer.


by Wang Wei

South Hill

 Light boat south hill go 
North hill vast expanse hard reach 
Separate bank see person home 
Long way off not recognise 


A light boat sets off from the southern hill, 
The north is hard to reach across the vastness.
On the other bank, I look for my home, It cannot be recognised so far off.


by Wang Wei

An Evening in the Mountains

 After rain the empty mountain 
Stands autumnal in the evening, 
Moonlight in its groves of pine, 
Stones of crystal in its brooks.
Bamboos whisper of washer-girls bound home, Lotus-leaves yield before a fisher-boat -- And what does it matter that springtime has gone, While you are here, O Prince of Friends?


by Thomas Hood

A Lake And A Fairy Boat

 A lake and a fairy boat
To sail in the moonlight clear, -
And merrily we would float
From the dragons that watch us here! 

Thy gown should be snow-white silk
And strings of oriental pearls,
Like gossamers dipped in milk,
Should twine with thy raven curls! 

Red rubies should deck thy hands,
And diamonds should be thy dower -
But fairies have broke their wands,
And wishing has lost its power!


by Carl Sandburg

On The Breakwater

 On the breakwater in the summer dark, a man and a
 girl are sitting,
She across his knee and they are looking face into face
Talking to each other without words, singing rythms in
 silence to each other.
A funnel of white ranges the blue dusk from an out- going boat, Playing its searchlight, puzzled, abrupt, over a streak of green, And two on the breakwater keep their silence, she on his knee.


by Emily Dickinson

Adrift! A little boat adrift!

 Adrift! A little boat adrift!
And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
Unto the nearest town?

So Sailors say -- on yesterday --
Just as the dusk was brown
One little boat gave up its strife
And gurgled down and down.
So angels say -- on yesterday -- Just as the dawn was red One little boat -- o'erspent with gales -- Retrimmed its masts -- redecked its sails -- And shot -- exultant on!


by Oscar Wilde

Les Silhouettes

 The sea is flecked with bars of grey,
The dull dead wind is out of tune,
And like a withered leaf the moon
Is blown across the stormy bay.
Etched clear upon the pallid sand Lies the black boat: a sailor boy Clambers aboard in careless joy With laughing face and gleaming hand.
And overhead the curlews cry, Where through the dusky upland grass The young brown-throated reapers pass, Like silhouettes against the sky.


by James Thomson

Gifts

 GIVE a man a horse he can ride, 
 Give a man a boat he can sail; 
And his rank and wealth, his strength and health, 
 On sea nor shore shall fail.
Give a man a pipe he can smoke, Give a man a book he can read: And his home is bright with a calm delight, Though the room be poor indeed.
Give a man a girl he can love, As I, O my love, love thee; And his heart is great with the pulse of Fate, At home, on land, on sea.


by Jane Kenyon

February: Thinking of Flowers

 Now wind torments the field,
turning the white surface back
on itself, back and back on itself,
like an animal licking a wound.
Nothing but white--the air, the light; only one brown milkweed pod bobbing in the gully, smallest brown boat on the immense tide.
A single green sprouting thing would restore me.
.
.
.
Then think of the tall delphinium, swaying, or the bee when it comes to the tongue of the burgundy lily.


by Denise Levertov

Losing Track

 Long after you have swung back
away from me
I think you are still with me:

you come in close to the shore
on the tide
and nudge me awake the way

a boat adrift nudges the pier:
am I a pier
half-in half-out of the water?

and in the pleasure of that communion
I lose track,
the moon I watch goes down, the

tide swings you away before
I know I'm
alone again long since,

mud sucking at gray and black
timbers of me,
a light growth of green dreams drying.


by Du Fu

Overflowing

River moon go person only few feet
Lantern shine night approach third watch
Sand head overnight egret join curl peaceful
Boat stern jump fish splash noise


The moon's reflected on the river a few feet away,
A lantern shines in the night near the third watch.
On the sand, egrets sleep, peacefully curled together,
Behind the boat I hear the splash of jumping fish.


by William Butler Yeats

The Cloak The Boat And The Shoes

 'What do you make so fair and bright?'

'I make the cloak of Sorrow:
O lovely to see in all men's sight
Shall be the cloak of Sorrow,
In all men's sight.
' 'What do you build with sails for flight?' 'I build a boat for Sorrow: O swift on the seas all day and night Saileth the rover Sorrow, All day and night.
' What do you weave with wool so white?' 'I weave the shoes of Sorrow: Soundless shall be the footfall light In all men's ears of Sorrow, Sudden and light.
'


by Anne Sexton

Buying The Whore

 You are the roast beef I have purchased
and I stuff you with my very own onion.
You are a boat I have rented by the hour and I steer you with my rage until you run aground.
You are a glass that I have paid to shatter and I swallow the pieces down with my spit.
You are the grate I warm my trembling hands on, searing the flesh until it's nice and juicy.
You stink like my Mama under your bra and I vomit into your hand like a jackpot its cold hard quarters.


by Rabindranath Tagore

The Boat

 I must launch out my boat.
The languid hours pass by on the shore---Alas for me! The spring has done its flowering and taken leave.
And now with the burden of faded futile flowers I wait and linger.
The waves have become clamorous, and upon the bank in the shady lane the yellow leaves flutter and fall.
What emptiness do you gaze upon! Do you not feel a thrill passing through the air with the notes of the far-away song floating from the other shore?