Famous Elderberry Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Elderberry poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous elderberry poems. These examples illustrate what a famous elderberry poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Thomas, Dylan
...> Auntie
Bessie, who had already been frightened, twice, by a clock-work mouse, whimpered at the sideboard and had some
elderberry wine. The dog was sick. Auntie Dosie had to have three aspirins, but Auntie Hannah, who liked port,
stood in the middle of the snowbound back yard, singing like a big-bosomed thrush. I would blow up balloons to
see how big they would blow up to; and, when they burst, which they all did, the Uncles jumped and rumbled. In
the rich an...Read more of this...
by
Bowers, Edgar
...d plums that my mother
Later would make preserves of, to give to friends
Or sell, in autumn, with the foxgrape, quince,
Elderberry, and muscadine. Around
The granite overhang, moist den of foxes;
Gradually up a long hill, high in pine,
Park-like, years of dry needles on the ground,
And dogwood, slopes the settlers terraced; pine
We cut at Christmas, berries, hollies, anise,
And cones for sale in Mister Haymore’s yard
In town, below the Courthouse Square. James Haymore...Read more of this...
by
Jobe, James Lee
...It could be Valley Oak or Snap-bean,
Elderberry, or Cattail rising out of the creek;
all began the same, a spark of life inside,
the need to be coaxing their will into action.
Seed and pod, nut and bulb, cajoled awake, called
by the warmth of the sun, moisture in the soil,
swelling them, filling their hearts, beginning
the slow push against the dormancy of the husk.
The eart...Read more of this...
by
Warren, Robert Penn
...he stars sparse.I heard them.
I did not know what was happening in my heart.
It was the season before the elderberry blooms,
Therefore they were going north.
The sound was passing northward....Read more of this...
by
Heaney, Seamus
...raised above the vent
of his slashed throat
that has tanned and toughened.
The cured wound
opens inwards to a dark
elderberry place.
Who will say ‘corpse’
to his vivid cast?
Who will say ‘body’
to his opaque repose?
And his rusted hair,
a mat unlikely
as a foetus’s.
I first saw his twisted face
in a photograph,
a head and shoulder
out of the peat,
bruised like a forceps baby,
but now he lies
perfected in my memory,
down to the red horn
of his nails,
hung in ...Read more of this...
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