Get Your Premium Membership

Best Famous Housefly Poems

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

Search and read the best famous Housefly poems, articles about Housefly poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Housefly poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:
Written by Shel Silverstein | Create an image from this poem

Forgotten Language

 Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?


Written by John Betjeman | Create an image from this poem

The Cottage Hospital

 At the end of a long-walled garden in a red provincial town,
A brick path led to a mulberry- scanty grass at its feet.
I lay under blackening branches where the mulberry leaves hung down
Sheltering ruby fruit globes from a Sunday-tea-time heat.
Apple and plum espaliers basked upon bricks of brown;
The air was swimming with insects, and children played in the street.

Out of this bright intentness into the mulberry shade
Musca domestica (housefly) swung from the August light
Slap into slithery rigging by the waiting spider made
Which spun the lithe elastic till the fly was shrouded tight.
Down came the hairy talons and horrible poison blade
And none of the garden noticed that fizzing, hopeless fight.

Say in what Cottage Hospital whose pale green walls resound
With the tap upon polished parquet of inflexible nurses' feet
Shall I myself by lying when they range the screens around?
And say shall I groan in dying, as I twist the sweaty sheet?
Or gasp for breath uncrying, as I feel my senses drown'd
While the air is swimming with insects and children play in the street?
Written by Russell Edson | Create an image from this poem

The Death Of A Fly

 There was once a man who disguised himself as a 
housefly and went about the neighborhood depositing 
flyspecks.
 Well, he has to do something hasn't he? said someone to 
someone else.
 Of course, said someone else back to someone.
 Then what's all the fuss? said someone to someone else.
 Who's fussing? I'm just saying that if he doesn't get off the 
wall of that building the police will have to shoot him off.
 Oh that, of course, there's nothing so engaging as a dead 
fly.
 I love dead flies, the way they remind me of individuals 
who have met their fate . . .

Book: Reflection on the Important Things