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 Alfred Lord Tennyson
16 William Butler Yeats
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 Thunchaththu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan
38 Thomas Hardy
39 Mark Twain
40 Carl Sandburg
41 Percy Bysshe Shelley
42 Anne Sexton
43 Alexander Pushkin
44 Roger McGough
45 Henry David Thoreau
46 Wendell Berry
47 Sara Teasdale
48 Victor Hugo
49 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
50 George (Lord) Byron

Famous Short Dream Poems

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

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Dream | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Langston Hughes

Dream Deferred

 What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--
And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?


by Langston Hughes

Dream Variations

 To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening Beneath a tall tree While night comes on gently, Dark like me- That is my dream! To fling my arms wide In the face of the sun, Dance! Whirl! Whirl! Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening.
.
.
A tall, slim tree.
.
.
Night coming tenderly Black like me.


by Alexander Pushkin

The Dream

 Not long ago, in a charming dream,
I saw myself -- a king with crown's treasure;
I was in love with you, it seemed,
And heart was beating with a pleasure.
I sang my passion's song by your enchanting knees.
Why, dreams, you didn't prolong my happiness forever? But gods deprived me not of whole their favor: I only lost the kingdom of my dreams.


by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The Poets Dream

ON a Poet's lips I slept  
Dreaming like a love-adept 
In the sound his breathing kept; 
Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses  
But feeds on the aerial kisses 5 
Of shapes that haunt Thought's wildernesses.
He will watch from dawn to gloom The lake-reflected sun illume The blue bees in the ivy-bloom Nor heed nor see what things they be¡ª 10 But from these create he can Forms more real than living man Nurslings of Immortality!


by Sylvia Plath

Southern Sunrise

 Color of lemon, mango, peach,
These storybook villas
Still dream behind
Shutters, thier balconies
Fine as hand-
Made lace, or a leaf-and-flower pen-sketch.
Tilting with the winds, On arrowy stems, Pineapple-barked, A green crescent of palms Sends up its forked Firework of fronds.
A quartz-clear dawn Inch by bright inch Gilds all our Avenue, And out of the blue drench Of Angels' Bay Rises the round red watermelon sun.


by Confucius

Sadness

The sun is ever full and bright,
The pale moon waneth night by night.
Why should this be? My heart that once was full of light Is but a dying moon to-night.
But when I dream of thee apart, I would the dawn might lift my heart, O sun, to thee.


by Hermann Hesse

Lonesome Night

 You brothers, who are mine,
Poor people, near and far,
Longing for every star,
Dream of relief from pain,
You, stumbling dumb
At night, as pale stars break,
Lift your thin hands for some
Hope, and suffer, and wake,
Poor muddling commonplace,
You sailors who must live
Unstarred by hopelessness,
We share a single face.
Give me my welcome back.


by Walter de la Mare

Why?

 Ever, ever
Stir and shiver
The reeds and rushes
By the river:
Ever, ever,
As if in dream,
The lone moon's silver
Sleeks the stream.
What old sorrow, What lost love, Moon, reeds, rushes, Dream you of?


by Antonio Machado

Passageways

 Who set, between those rocks like cinder,
to show the honey of dream,
that golden broom,
those blue rosemaries?
Who painted the purple mountains
and the saffron, sunset sky?
The hermitage, the beehives,
the cleft of the river
the endless rolling water deep in rocks,
the pale-green of new fields,
all of it, even the white and pink
under the almond trees!


by Alexander Pushkin

The Wish

 I shed my tears; my tears – my consolation;
And I am silent; my murmur is dead,
My soul, sunk in a depression’s shade,
Hides in its depths the bitter exultation.
I don’t deplore my passing dream of life -- Vanish in dark, the empty apparition! I care only for my love’s infliction, And let me die, but only die in love!


by William Butler Yeats

A Dream Of Death

 I dreamed that one had died in a strange place
Near no accustomed hand,
And they had nailed the boards above her face,
The peasants of that land,
Wondering to lay her in that solitude,
And raised above her mound
A cross they had made out of two bits of wood,
And planted cypress round;
And left her to the indifferent stars above
Until I carved these words:
She was more beautiful than thy first love,
But now lies under boards.


by Arna Bontemps

God Give to Men

 God give the yellow man
an easy breeze at blossom time.
Grant his eager, slanting eyes to cover every land and dream of afterwhile.
Give blue-eyed men their swivel chairs to whirl in tall buildings.
Allow them many ships at sea, and on land, soldiers and policemen.
For black man, God, no need to bother more but only fill afresh his meed of laughter, his cup of tears.
God suffer little men the taste of soul's desire.


by Wallace Stevens

Disillusionment of Ten o Clock

The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures.
People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk and asleep in his boots, Catches tigers In red weather.


by Robert Frost

Immigrants

 No ship of all that under sail or steam
Have gathered people to us more and more
But Pilgrim-manned the Mayflower in a dream
Has been her anxious convoy in to shore.


by Sarojini Naidu

Cradle Song

 FROM groves of spice, 
O'er fields of rice, 
Athwart the lotus-stream, 
I bring for you, 
Aglint with dew 
A little lovely dream.
Sweet, shut your eyes, The wild fire-fiies Dance through the fairy neem; From the poppy-bole For you I stole A little lovely dream.
Dear eyes, good-night, In golden light The stars around you gleam; On you I press With soft caress A little lovely dream.


by Ogden Nash

My Dream

 This is my dream, 
It is my own dream, 
I dreamt it.
I dreamt that my hair was kempt.
Then I dreamt that my true love unkempt it.


by Lisel Mueller

Immortality

 WE must pass like smoke or live within the spirit’s fire;
For we can no more than smoke unto the flame return
If our thought has changed to dream, our will unto desire,
 As smoke we vanish though the fire may burn.
Lights of infinite pity star the grey dusk of our days: Surely here is soul: with it we have eternal breath: In the fire of love we live, or pass by many ways, By unnumbered ways of dream to death.


by Dejan Stojanovic

Seagull from Afar

Lie on the ground and listen to the grass, 
Hear the silent signals from outer space, 
Dream by making and make by dreaming, 
Feel what the trees bathed in sunlight feel, 
Gaze far to see the sea-gull emerging from the sea, 
Imagine that today is the birth of the world and greet it, 
Greet the old bird.


by Stephen Crane

Ay workman make me a dream

 Ay, workman, make me a dream,
A dream for my love.
Cunningly weave sunlight, Breezes, and flowers.
Let it be of the cloth of meadows.
And -- good workman -- And let there be a man walking thereon.


by Henry David Thoreau

Low-Anchored Cloud

 Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain-head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream-drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of lakes and seas and rivers,
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men's fields!


by Christina Rossetti

Mirage

 The hope I dreamed of was a dream,
Was but a dream; and now I wake,
Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old,
For a dream's sake.
I hang my harp upon a tree, A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapped For a dream's sake.
Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake.


by Walt Whitman

I Dream'd in a Dream

 I DREAM’D in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of
 the
 earth;

I dream’d that was the new City of Friends; 
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love—it led the rest; 
It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city, 
And in all their looks and words.
5


by Elinor Wylie

Spring Pastoral

 Liza, go steep your long white hands 
In the cool waters of that spring 
Which bubbles up through shiny sands 
The colour of a wild-dove's wing.
Dabble your hands, and steep them well Until those nails are pearly white Now rosier than a laurel bell; Then come to me at candlelight.
Lay your cold hands across my brows, And I shall sleep, and I shall dream Of silver-pointed willow boughs Dipping their fingers in a stream.


by Dejan Stojanovic

Forgotten Home

My feelings are too loud for words 
And too shy for the world.
Read the light and have a dream In your hidden garden.
No need for words.
The words are but shadows Of stories never said, Shining from distant kingdoms, Reminding you of a forgotten home.
Light rays will tell you the story.
There is another alphabet Whispering from every leaf, Singing from every river, Shimmering from every sky.


by Paul Laurence Dunbar

A Golden Day

 I Found you and I lost you, 
All on a gleaming day.
The day was filled with sunshine, And the land was full of May.
A golden bird was singing Its melody divine, I found you and I loved you, And all the world was mine.
I found you and I lost you, All on a golden day, But when I dream of you, dear, It is always brimming May.