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Best Famous Crayfish Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Crayfish poems. This is a select list of the best famous Crayfish poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Crayfish poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of crayfish poems.

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Written by Claude McKay | Create an image from this poem

The Spanish Needle

 Lovely dainty Spanish needle 
With your yellow flower and white, 
Dew bedecked and softly sleeping, 
Do you think of me to-night? 

Shadowed by the spreading mango, 
Nodding o'er the rippling stream, 
Tell me, dear plant of my childhood, 
Do you of the exile dream? 

Do you see me by the brook's side 
Catching crayfish 'neath the stone, 
As you did the day you whispered: 
Leave the harmless dears alone? 

Do you see me in the meadow 
Coming from the woodland spring 
With a bamboo on my shoulder 
And a pail slung from a string? 

Do you see me all expectant 
Lying in an orange grove, 
While the swee-swees sing above me, 
Waiting for my elf-eyed love? 

Lovely dainty Spanish needle, 
Source to me of sweet delight, 
In your far-off sunny southland 
Do you dream of me to-night?

Written by Richard Hugo | Create an image from this poem

Underwater Autumn

 Now the summer perch flips twice and glides
a lateral fathom at the first cold rain,
the surface near to silver from a frosty hill.
Along the weed and grain of log he slides his tail.
Nervously the trout (his stream-toned heart locked in the lake, his poise and nerve disgraced) above the stirring catfish, curves in bluegill dreams and curves beyond the sudden thrust of bass.
Surface calm and calm act mask the detonating fear, the moving crayfish claw, the stare of sunfish hovering above the cloud-stained sand, a sucker nudging cans, the grinning maskinonge.
How do carp resolve the eel and terror here? They face so many times this brown-ribbed fall of leaves predicting weather foreign as a shark or prawn and floating still above them in the paling sun.
Written by Kathleen Raine | Create an image from this poem

The River

 In my first sleep
I came to the river
And looked down
Through the clear water -
Only in dream
Water so pure,
Laced and undulant
Lines of flow
On its rocky bed
Water of life
Streaming for ever.
A house was there Beside the river And I, arrived, An expected guest About to explore Old gardens and libraries - But the car was waiting To drive me away.
One last look Into that bright stream - Trout there were And clear on the bottom Monster form Of the great crayfish That crawls to the moon.
On its rocky bed Living water In whorls and ripples Flowing unbended.
There was the car To drive me away.
We crossed the river Of living water - I might not stay, But must return By the road too short To the waiting day.
In my second dream Pure I was and free By the rapid stream, My crystal house the sky, The pure crystalline sky.
Into the stream I flung A bottle of clear glass That twirled and tossed and spun In the water's race Flashing the morning sun.
Down that swift river I saw it borne away, My empty crystal form, Exultant saw it caught Into the current's spin, The flashing water's run.