Get Your Premium Membership

Best Famous Toured Poems

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

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

See Also:
Written by Barry Tebb | Create an image from this poem

MEMORIES OF THE FIFTIES

 Eggshell and Wedgwood Blue were just two

Of the range on the colour cards Dulux

Tailored to our taste in the fifties,

Brentford nylons, Formica table tops and

Fablon shelf-covering in original oak or

Spruce under neon tubes and Dayglo shades.
Wartime brown and green went out, along with The Yorkist Range, the wire-mesh food safe In the cellar, the scrubbed board bath lid And marbled glass bowl over the light bulb With its hidden hoard of dead flies and Rusting three-tier chain.
We moved to the new estate, Airey semis With their pebble-dash prefabricated slats, Built-in kitchen units and made-to-measure gardens.
Every Saturday I went back to the streets, Dinner at Auntie Nellie’s, Yorkies, mash and gravy, Then the matinee at the Princess with Margaret, The queen of my ten-year old heart.
Everybody was on the move, half the neighbours To the new estates or death, newcomers with Rough tongues from over the bridge slum clearance.
A drive-in Readymix cement works bruised the Hollows, Ellerby Lane School closed, St.
Hilda’s bulldozed.
The trams stopped for good after the Coronation Special In purple and gold toured the city's tracks and The red-white and blue on the cake at the street party Crumbled to dust and the river-bank rats fed on it Like Miss Haversham’s wedding feast all over again.
The cobbled hill past the Mansions led nowhere, The buses ran empty, then the route closed.
I returned again and again in friends’ cars, Now alone, on foot, again and again.


Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Mistinguette

 He was my one and only love;
My world was mirror for his face.
We were as close as hand and glove, Until he came with smiling grace To say: 'We must be wise, my dear.
You are the idol of today, But I too plan a proud career,-- Let's kiss and go our way.
' And then he soared to sudden fame, And even queens applauded him.
A halo glorified his name That dust of time may never dim.
And me,--I toured golden Brazil, Yet as gay mobs were cheering me, The sun seemed black, the brilliance chill, My triumph mockery.
Today if I should say: 'Hello!' He'd say: 'How are you?' I'd say: 'Fine.
' Yet never shall he see the woe, The wanness of my frail decline.
I love him now and always will.
Oh may his star be long to set! My Maurice is an idol still,-- What wreaths for Mistinguette!

Book: Shattered Sighs