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Best Famous Tattles Poems

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

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Written by Anne Kingsmill Finch | Create an image from this poem

An Apology for my fearfull temper

 Tis true of courage I'm no mistress
No Boadicia nor Thalestriss
Nor shall I e'er be famed hereafter
For such a Soul as Cato's Daughter
Nor active valour nor enduring 
Nor leading troops nor forts securing
Like Teckley's wife or Pucell valiant
Will e'er be reckonded for my talent
Who all things fear whilst day is shining
And my own shadow light declining 
And from the Spleen's prolifick fountain
Can of a mole hill make a mountain
And if a Coach that was invented
Since Bess on Palfrey rode contented
Threatens to tumble topsy turvy 
With screeches loud and faces scurvey
I break discourse whilst some are laughing
Some fall to chear me some to chaffing
As secretly the driver curses
And whips my fault upon the horses 
These and ten thousand are the errours
Arising from tumultuous terrours
Yet can't I understand the merit
In Female's of a daring spirit
Since to them never was imparted 
In manly strengh tho' manly hearted
Nor need that sex be self defending
Who charm the most when most depending
And by sweet plaints and soft distresses
First gain asistance then adresses 
As our fourth Edward (beauty suing)
From but releiving fell to wooing
Who by Heroick speech or ranting
Had ne'er been melted to galanting
Nor had th'Egyptian Queen defying 
Drawn off that fleet she led by flying
Whilst Cesar and his ships crew hollow'd
To see how Tony row'd and follow'd
Oh Action triumph of the Ladies
And plea for her who most afraid is 
Then let my conduct work no wonder
When fame who cleaves the air asunder
And every thing in time discovers
Nor council keeps for Kings or Lovers
Yet stoops when tired with States and battles 
To Gossips chats and idler tattles
When she I say has given no knowledge
Of what has happen'd at Wye College
Think it not strange to save my Person
I gave the family diversion 
'Twas at an hour when most were sleeping
Some chimnies clean some wanted sweeping
Mine thro' good fires maintain'd this winter
(Of which no FINCH was e'er a stinter)
Pour'd down such flakes not Etna bigger 
Throws up as did my fancy figure
Nor does a Cannon ram'd with Powder
To others seem to Bellow louder
All that I thought or spoke or acted
Can't in a letter be compacted 
Nor how I threatn'd those with burning
Who thoughtless on their beds were turning
As Shakespear says they serv'd old Prium
When that the Greeks were got too nigh'em
And such th'effect in spite of weather 
Our Hecuba's all rose together
I at their head half cloath'd and shaking
Was instantly the house forsaking
And told them 'twas no time for talking
But who'd be safe had best be walking 
This hasty councel and conclusion
Seem'd harsh to those who had no shoes on
And saw no flames and heard no clatter
But as I had rehears'd the matter
And wildly talk't of fire and water 
For sooner then 'thas took to tell it
Right applications did repell it
And now my fear our mirth creating
Affords still subject for repeating
Whilst some deplore th'unusual folly 
Some (kinder) call it melancholy
Tho' certainly the spirits sinking
Comes not from want of wit or thinking
Since Rochester all dangers hated
And left to those were harder pated.


Written by Rg Gregory | Create an image from this poem

the wounded angel

 (from a painting by hugo simberg)

those who bear the wounded angel
are they honoured or destroyed
far beyond their comprehension
are the warfares of the void

angels have a sheen to lift them
well above the bloody battles
human beings give their hurts to
divines don't need such tittle-tattles

yet this angel has been wounded
here on earth its presence is
two young boys (the stretcher bearers)
are flung immensely into crisis

where to take a wounded angel
wait till we can tell our friends
is this something one is dreaming
- both are terrified of ends

are we martyrs heroes villains
should we drop the thing and run
will we be decorated or scolded
 - something new beneath the sun

weightless stretcher far too heavy
sweating fingers burn like ice
legs revolve in all directions
thoughts race into paralysis

ahead the village breathes as normal
innocent of the eternal bloom
about to bleed its hope-fear petals
into each mortal living room

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry