Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

 Poet
1 William Wordsworth
2 William Shakespeare
3 Oscar Wilde
4 Emily Dickinson
5 Rabindranath Tagore
6 Maya Angelou
7 Robert Frost
8 Langston Hughes
9 Walt Whitman
10 Shel Silverstein
11 William Blake
12 Pablo Neruda
13 Rudyard Kipling
14 Sylvia Plath
15 William Butler Yeats
16 Alfred Lord Tennyson
17 Tupac Shakur
18 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
19 Charles Bukowski
20 Sarojini Naidu
21 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
22 Muhammad Ali
23 Christina Rossetti
24 Billy Collins
25 Alice Walker
26 Sandra Cisneros
27 Ogden Nash
28 Carol Ann Duffy
29 John Donne
30 Edgar Allan Poe
31 Ralph Waldo Emerson
32 Raymond Carver
33 Nikki Giovanni
34 John Keats
35 Lewis Carroll
36 Spike Milligan
37 Thomas Hardy
38 Thunchaththu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan
39 Mark Twain
40 Carl Sandburg
41 Percy Bysshe Shelley
42 Anne Sexton
43 Alexander Pushkin
44 Henry David Thoreau
45 Roger McGough
46 Sara Teasdale
47 Wendell Berry
48 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
49 Victor Hugo
50 George (Lord) Byron

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Famous Short Thank You Poems

Famous Short Thank You Poems. Short Thank You Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Thank You short poems

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Thank You | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Judith Viorst

Learning

I'm learning to say thank you.
And I'm learning to say please.
And I'm learning to use Kleenex,
Not my sweater, when I sneeze.
And I'm learning not to dribble.
And I'm learning not to slurp.
And I'm learning (though it sometimes really hurts me)
Not to burp.
And I'm learning to chew softer
When I eat corn on the cob.
And I'm learning that it's much
Much easier to be a slob.


by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Cow

 Thank you, pretty cow, that made
Pleasant milk to soak my bread, 
Every day and every night, 
Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white.
Do not chew the hemlock rank, Growing on the weedy bank; But the yellow cowslips eat; They perhaps will make it sweet.
Where the purple violet grows, Where the bubbling water flows, Where the grass is fresh and fine, Pretty cow, go there to dine.


by Bertolt Brecht

Send Me A Leaf

 Send me a leaf, but from a bush
That grows at least one half hour
Away from your house, then
You must go and will be strong, and I
Thank you for the pretty leaf.


by Mark Van Doren

Farewell and Thanksgiving

 Whatever I have left unsaid
When I am dead
O'muse forgive me.
You were always there, like light, like air.
Those great good things of which the least bird sings, So why not I? Yet thank you even then, Sweet muse, Amen.


by George Herbert

Church Music

 Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure
Did through my body wound my mind,
You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure
A dainty lodging me assigned.
Now I in you without a body move, Rising and falling with your wings: We both together sweetly live and love, Yet say sometimes, "God help poor Kings".
Comfort, I'll die; for if you post from me Sure I shall do so, and much more: But if I travel in your company, You know the way to heaven's door.


by John Matthew

Muskaan — A Poem

 When she smiles she sends happiness
A million pleasant thrills of the heart
To parched souls thirsting for love 
In the vast desert of human affairs.
Oh, is there in this world such a heart? So pure in its expression of joy, smiles I know not how to thank you dear God For this wonderful creation of yours.
What makes Muskan’s smile so beautiful? Is it the deep pain and hurt she is hiding? Wringing the joys from the sadness of life Throwing away the bland fiber and rinds.


by Mother Goose

Shall We Go A-Shearing?


"Old woman, old woman, shall we go a-shearing?"
"Speak a little louder, sir, I am very thick of hearing.
"
"Old woman, old woman, shall I kiss you dearly?"
"Thank you, kind sir, I hear you very clearly.
"


by Emily Dickinson

If I shouldnt be alive

 If I shouldn't be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.
If I couldn't thank you, Being fast asleep, You will know I'm trying Why my Granite lip!


by Robert Herrick

TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW

 Since to the country first I came,
I have lost my former flame;
And, methinks, I not inherit,
As I did, my ravish'd spirit.
If I write a verse or two, 'Tis with very much ado; In regard I want that wine Which should conjure up a line.
Yet, though now of Muse bereft, I have still the manners left For to thank you, noble sir, For those gifts you do confer Upon him, who only can Be in prose a grateful man.


by Mother Goose

Pussy-Cat By The Fire


Pussy-cat sits by the fire;
    How can she be fair?
In walks the little dog;
    Says: "Pussy, are you there?
How do you do, Mistress Pussy?
    Mistress Pussy, how d'ye do?"
"I thank you kindly, little dog,
    I fare as well as you!"