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Famous Short Sister Poems. Short Sister Poetry by Famous Poets

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

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

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by Paul Celan

Landscape

 tall poplars -- human beings of this earth!
black pounds of happiness -- you mirror them to death!

I saw you, sister, stand in that effulgence.


by Spike Milligan

My Sister Laura

 My sister Laura's bigger than me
And lifts me up quite easily.
I can't lift her, I've tried and tried; She must have something heavy inside.


by Mother Goose

Coffee And Tea

 

Molly, my sister and I fell out,
And what do you think it was all about?
She loved coffee and I loved tea,
And that was the reason we couldn't agree.


by Mother Goose

Bye, Baby Bunting


Bye, baby bunting,
Father's gone a-hunting,
Mother's gone a-milking,
Sister's gone a-silking,
And brother's gone to buy a skin
To wrap the baby bunting in.


by Robert Herrick

UPON HIS SISTER-IN-LAW MISTRESS ELIZABETHHERRICK

 First, for effusions due unto the dead,
My solemn vows have here accomplished;
Next, how I love thee, that my grief must tell,
Wherein thou liv'st for ever.
--Dear, farewell!


by Ellis Parker Butler

A Scotchman Whose Name Was Isbister

 A Scotchman whose name was Isbister
Had a maiden giraffe he called “sister”
 When she said “Oh, be mine,
 Be my sweet Valentine!”
He just shinned up her long neck and kissed her.


by Thomas Hardy

After Schiller

 Knight, a true sister-love 
 This heart retains; 
Ask me no other love, 
 That way lie pains! 

Calm must I view thee come, 
 Calm see thee go; 
Tale-telling tears of thine 
 I must not know


by Hilaire Belloc

The Early Morning

 The moon on the one hand, the dawn on the other:
The moon is my sister, the dawn is my brother.
The moon on my left and the dawn on my right.
My brother, good morning: my sister, good night.


by Emily Dickinson

Brother of Ingots -- Ah Peru --

 Brother of Ingots -- Ah Peru --
Empty the Hearts that purchased you --

--

Sister of Ophir --
Ah, Peru --
Subtle the Sum
That purchase you --

--

Brother of Ophir
Bright Adieu,
Honor, the shortest route
To you.


by Emily Dickinson

Wonder -- is not precisely Knowing

 Wonder -- is not precisely Knowing
And not precisely Knowing not --
A beautiful but bleak condition
He has not lived who has not felt --

Suspense -- is his maturer Sister --
Whether Adult Delight is Pain
Or of itself a new misgiving --
This is the Gnat that mangles men --


by Georg Trakl

Klage

 Dreamless sleep - the dusky Eagles
nightlong rush about my head,
man's golden image drowned
in timeless icy tides.
On jagged reefs his purpling body.
Dark echoes sound above the seas.
Stormy sadness' sister, see our lonely skiff sunk down by starry skies: the silent face of night.


by Edgar Lee Masters

Constance Hately

 You praise my self-sacrifice, Spoon River, 
In rearing Irene and Mary, 
Orphans of my older sister! 
And you censure Irene and Mary 
For their contempt of me! 
But praise not my self-sacrifice, 
And censure not their contempt; 
I reared them, I cared for them, true enough!-- 
But I poisoned my benefactions 
With constant reminders of their dependence.


by Hilaire Belloc

Algernon

 Who played with a Loaded Gun, and, on missing his Sister was reprimanded by his Father.
Young Algernon, the Doctor's Son, Was playing with a Loaded Gun.
He pointed it towards his Sister, Aimed very carefully, but Missed her! His Father, who was standing near, The Loud Explosion chanced to Hear, And reprimanded Algernon For playing with a Loaded Gun.


by James Joyce

My Dove My Beautiful One

 My dove, my beautiful one, 
Arise, arise! 
The night-dew lies 
Upon my lips and eyes.
The odorous winds are weaving A music of sighs: Arise, arise, My dove, my beautiful one! I wait by the cedar tree, My sister, my love, White breast of the dove, My breast shall be your bed.
The pale dew lies Like a veil on my head.
My fair one, my fair dove, Arise, arise!


by Thomas Lux

Plague Victims Catapulted Over Walls Into Besieged City

 Early germ
warfare.
The dead hurled this way look like wheels in the sky.
Look: there goes Larry the Shoemaker, barefoot, over the wall, and Mary Sausage Stuffer, see how she flies, and the Hatter twins, both at once, soar over the parapet, little Tommy's elbow bent as if in a salute, and his sister, Mathilde, she follows him, arms outstretched, through the air, just as she did on earth.


by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Move Eastward Happy Earth

 Move eastward, happy earth, and leave 
Yon orange sunset waning slow: 
From fringes of the faded eve, 
O, happy planet, eastward go: 
Till over thy dark shoulder glow 
Thy silver sister world, and rise 
To glass herself in dewey eyes 
That watch me from the glen below.
Ah, bear me with thee, lightly borne, Dip forward under starry light, And move me to my marriage-morn, And round again to happy night.


by William Blake

Jerusalem: England! awake! awake! awake!

 England! awake! awake! awake! 
Jerusalem thy Sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
And close her from thy ancient walls?

Thy hills and valleys felt her feet
Gently upon their bosoms move:
Thy gates beheld sweet Zion's ways:
Then was a time of joy and love.
And now the time returns again: Our souls exult, and London's towers Receive the Lamb of God to dwell In England's green and pleasant bowers.


by Joseph Brodsky

A Polar Explorer

All the huskies are eaten.
There is no space left in the diary And the beads of quick words scatter over his spouse's sepia-shaded face adding the date in question like a mole to her lovely cheek.
Next the snapshot of his sister.
He doesn't spare his kin: what's been reached is the highest possible latitude! And like the silk stocking of a burlesque half-nude queen it climbs up his thigh: gangrene.


by Gregory Corso

Destiny

 LIKE winds or waters were her ways:
The flowing tides, the airy streams,
Are troubled not by any dreams;
They know the circle of their days.
Like winds or waters were her ways: They heed not immemorial cries; They move to their high destinies Beyond the little voice that prays.
She passed into her secret goal, And left behind a soul that trod In darkness, knowing not of God, But craving for its sister soul.


by Mother Goose

A Melancholy Song


Trip upon trenchers,
And dance upon dishes,
My mother sent me for some barm, some barm;
She bid me go lightly,
And come again quickly,
For fear the young men should do me some harm.
Yet didn't you see, yet didn't you see,
What naughty tricks they put upon me?
They broke my pitcher
And spilt the water,
And huffed my mother,
And chid her daughter,
And kissed my sister instead of me.


by William Blake

England! awake! awake! awake!

 England! awake! awake! awake! 
Jerusalem thy Sister calls! 
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death 
And close her from thy ancient walls? 

Thy hills and valleys felt her feet 
Gently upon their bosoms move: 
Thy gates beheld sweet Zion's ways: 
Then was a time of joy and love.
And now the time returns again: Our souls exult, and London's towers Receive the Lamb of God to dwell In England's green and pleasant bowers.


by Siegfried Sassoon

The Kiss

 To these I turn, in these I trust; 
Brother Lead and Sister Steel.
To his blind power I make appeal; I guard her beauty clean from rust.
He spins and burns and loves the air, And splits a skull to win my praise; But up the nobly marching days She glitters naked, cold and fair.
Sweet Sister, grant your soldier this; That in good fury he may feel The body where he sets his heel Quail from your downward darting kiss.


by George William Russell

Light and Dark

 NOT the soul that’s whitest
 Wakens love the sweetest:
When the heart is lightest
 Oft the charm is fleetest.
While the snow-frail maiden, Waits the time of learning, To the passion laden Turn with eager yearning.
While the heart is burning Heaven with earth is banded: To the stars returning Go not empty-handed.
Ah, the snow-frail maiden! Somehow truth has missed her, Left the heart unladen For its burdened sister.


by Robert Creeley

Other

 Having begun in thought there
in that factual embodied wonder
what was lost in the emptied lovers
patience and mind I first felt there
wondered again and again what for
myself so meager and finally singular
despite all issued therefrom whether
sister or mother or brother and father
come to love's emptied place too late
to feel it again see again first there
all the peculiar wet tenderness the care
of her for whom to be other was first fate.


by Russell Edson

The Breast

 One night a woman's breast came to a man's room and
began to talk about her twin sister.
Her twin sister this and her twin sister that.
Finally the man said, but what about you, dear breast? And so the breast spent the rest of the night talking about herself.
It was the same as when she talked about her sister: herself this and herself that.
Finally the man kissed her nipple and said, I'm sorry, and fell asleep.
.
.


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