Best Famous Fielding Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Fielding poems. This is a select list of the best famous Fielding poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Fielding poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of fielding poems.
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Written by
Billy Collins |
Baudelaire considers you his brother,
and Fielding calls out to you every few paragraphs
as if to make sure you have not closed the book,
and now I am summoning you up again,
attentive ghost, dark silent figure standing
in the doorway of these words.
Pope welcomes you into the glow of his study,
takes down a leather-bound Ovid to show you.
Tennyson lifts the latch to a moated garden,
and with Yeats you lean against a broken pear tree,
the day hooded by low clouds.
But now you are here with me,
composed in the open field of this page,
no room or manicured garden to enclose us,
no Zeitgeist marching in the background,
no heavy ethos thrown over us like a cloak.
Instead, our meeting is so brief and accidental,
unnoticed by the monocled eye of History,
you could be the man I held the door for
this morning at the bank or post office
or the one who wrapped my speckled fish.
You could be someone I passed on the street
or the face behind the wheel of an oncoming car.
The sunlight flashes off your windshield,
and when I look up into the small, posted mirror,
I watch you diminish—my echo, my twin—
and vanish around a curve in this whip
of a road we can't help traveling together.
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Written by
Rg Gregory |
name meaning thread weaver or duck
(these may be guesses from obscurity)
ten-year faithful wife whilst her husband
was gallivanting round the islands
deceiving the suitors by her shroud-unpicking
or maybe not such a savoury dame having
a high time with those after her favours
allegedly allowing hermes up her skirts
and becoming the mother of pan
or even (when odysseus was killed)
getting married to her own murdering son
penelope seemed to have been good material
for the greek tabloids (for which truth
as always was something of a side-dish)
and nowadays the long-suffering wife
who kept her would-be lovers at bay
with her deft (daft) needle has to be taken
with the same load of salt her husband
mixed in with his barley to prove how mad
he was and not fit to be a hero – we can’t
have celebrities who don’t get up to
the wildest things to leaven our own dull lives
i have a soft spot for penelope though
a bit like a cricketer deserted by her
own side having to play against eleven
thugs from the next village - so adept
with fingers and feet she could put herself
about as the whole team - her skills
at batting bowling fielding keeping score
prodigious in the eyes of bemused suitors
she’s the innermost feminine dream
thread of life weaver of stories – the duck
machismo gets bowled over and out for
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