Famous Bun Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Bun poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous bun poems. These examples illustrate what a famous bun poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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My Mother On An Evening In Late Summer

by Mark Strand
 1
When the moon appears
and a few wind-stricken barns stand out
in the low-domed hills
and shine with a light
that is veiled and dust-filled
and that floats upon the fields,
my mother, with her hair in a bun,
her face in shadow, and the smoke
from their cigarette coiling close
to the faint yellow sheen of her dress,
stands hear the house
and watches the seepage of late light
down...Read more of this...

Little Birds

by Lewis Carroll
 Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell:
Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters -
I've a Tale to tell.

Little Birds are feeding
Justices with jam,
Rich in frizzled ham:
Rich, I say, in oysters
Haunting shady cloisters -
That is what I am.

Little Birds are teaching
Tigresses to smile,
Innocent of guile:
Smile, I say, not smirkle -
Mouth a semicircle,
That's the proper style!

Little Birds are...Read more of this...

My Heart upon a little Plate

by Emily Dickinson
 My Heart upon a little Plate
Her Palate to delight
A Berry or a Bun, would be,
Might it an Apricot!...Read more of this...

The Drowned Man

by Alexander Pushkin
 Children running into izba,
Calling father, dripping sweat:
"Daddy, daddy! come -- there is a
Deadman caught inside our net."
"Fancy, fancy fabrication..."
Grumbled off their weary Pa,
"Have these imps imagination!
Deadman, really! ya-ha-ha...

"Well... the court may come to bother -
What'll I say before the judge?
Hey you brats, go have your mother
Bring my coat; I better trudge...
Show me, where?" -- "Right there, Dad, farther!"
On the...Read more of this...

This dirty -- little -- Heart

by Emily Dickinson
 This dirty -- little -- Heart
Is freely mine.
I won it with a Bun --
A Freckled shrine --

But eligibly fair
To him who sees
The Visage of the Soul
And not the knees....Read more of this...

Grotty And The Quarryman

by Barry Tebb
 (To Paul Sykes, author of 'Sweet Agony')

He demolished five doors at a sitting

And topped it off with an outsize window

One Christmas afternoon, when drunk;

Sober he smiled like an angel, bowed,

Kissed ladies’ hands and courtesy

Was his middle name.

She tried to pass for thirty at fifty-six,

Called him "My Sweet piglet" and laid out

Dainty doylies for his teatime treats; always

She wore black...Read more of this...

Mac Flecknoe

by John Dryden
 All human things are subject to decay,
And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey:
This Flecknoe found, who, like Augustus, young
Was call'd to empire, and had govern'd long:
In prose and verse, was own'd, without dispute
Through all the realms of Non-sense, absolute.
This aged prince now flourishing in peace,
And blest with issue of a large increase,
Worn out with business, did at length debate
To...Read more of this...

The Robins

by Mother Goose
A robin and a robin's son
Once went to town to buy a bun.
They couldn't decide on plum or plain,
And so they went back home again....Read more of this...

To Market

by Mother Goose
To market, to market, to buy a fat pig.
Home again, home again, jiggety jig.
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety jog.
To market, to market, to buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again, market is done....Read more of this...

G was Papas new Gun

by Edward Lear
G  was Papa's new Gun;He put it in a box; And then he went and bought a bun,And walked about the Docks. ...Read more of this...

Fable

by Ralph Waldo Emerson
THE MOUNTAIN and the squirrel 
Had a quarrel; 
And the former called the latter "Little Prig." 
Bun replied  
You are doubtless very big; 5 
But all sorts of things and weather 
Must be taken in together, 
To make up a year 
And a sphere. 
And I think it no disgrace 10 
To occupy my place. 
If I'm not as...Read more of this...

Mary

by Edgar Bowers
 The angel of self-discipline, her guardian
Since she first knew and had to go away
From home that spring to have her child with strangers,
Sustained her, till the vanished boy next door
And her ordeal seemed fiction, and the true
Her mother’s firm insistence she was the mother
And the neighbors’ acquiescence. So she taught school,
Walking a mile each way to ride the street...Read more of this...

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