Famous Short Shoe Poems
Famous Short Shoe Poems. Short Shoe Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Shoe short poems
by
Langston Hughes
When the shoe strings break
On both your shoes
And you're in a hurry-
That's the blues.
When you go to buy a candy bar
And you've lost the dime you had-
Slipped through a hole in your pocket somewhere-
That's the blues, too, and bad!
by
Mother Goose
For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;For want of the horse, the rider was lost;For want of the rider, the battle was lost;For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost,And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.
by
Robert Herrick
A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction--
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher--
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbands to flow confusedly--
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat--
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility--
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.
by
Emily Dickinson
A Burdock -- clawed my Gown --
Not Burdock's -- blame --
But mine --
Who went too near
The Burdock's Den --
A Bog -- affronts my shoe --
What else have Bogs -- to do --
The only Trade they know --
The splashing Men!
Ah, pity -- then!
'Tis Minnows can despise!
The Elephant's -- calm eyes
Look further on!
by
William Henry Davies
A week ago I had a fire
To warm my feet, my hands and face;
Cold winds, that never make a friend,
Crept in and out of every place.
Today the fields are rich in grass,
And buttercups in thousands grow;
I'll show the world where I have been--
With gold-dust seen on either shoe.
Till to my garden back I come,
Where bumble-bees for hours and hours
Sit on their soft, fat, velvet bums,
To wriggle out of hollow flowers.
by
Mother Goose
One, two,Buckle my shoe;Three, four,Knock at the door;Five, six,Pick up sticks;Seven, eight,Lay them straight;Nine, ten,A good, fat hen;Eleven, twelve,Dig and delve;Thirteen, fourteen,Maids a-courting;Fifteen, sixteen,Maids in the kitchen;Seventeen, eighteen,Maids a-waiting;Nineteen, twenty,My plate's empty.
by
Mother Goose
Little Betty Blue Lost her holiday shoe;What shall little Betty do? Give her another To match the otherAnd then she'll walk upon two.
by
Mother Goose
Doodle doodle doo,The Princess lost her shoe: Her Highness hopped,-- The fiddler stopped,Not knowing what to do.
by
Emily Dickinson
Of Silken Speech and Specious Shoe
A Traitor is the Bee
His service to the newest Grace
Present continually
His Suit a chance
His Troth a Term
Protracted as the Breeze
Continual Ban propoundeth He
Continual Divorce.
by
Carl Sandburg
THE PAWN-SHOP man knows hunger,
And how far hunger has eaten the heart
Of one who comes with an old keepsake.
Here are wedding rings and baby bracelets,
Scarf pins and shoe buckles, jeweled garters,
Old-fashioned knives with inlaid handles,
Watches of old gold and silver,
Old coins worn with finger-marks.
They tell stories.
by
Mother Goose
"Robert Barnes, my fellow fine,Can you shoe this horse of mine?""Yes, good sir, that I can,As well as any other man;There's a nail, and there's a prod,Now, good sir, your horse is shod."
by
Robert Herrick
A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness;
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction;
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher;
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly;
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat;
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility;--
Do more bewitch me, than when art
Is too precise in every part.
by
Mother Goose
Cock-a-doodle-do!My dame has lost her shoe,My master's lost his fiddle-stickAnd knows not what to do.Cock-a-doodle-do!What is my dame to do?Till master finds his fiddle-stick,She'll dance without her shoe.
by
Edward Lear
There was a Young Lady of Ryde,Whose shoe-strings were seldom untied;She purchased some clogs, and some small spotty Dogs,And frequently walked about Ryde.
by
Mother Goose
"Little girl, little girl, where have you been?""Gathering roses to give to the Queen.""Little girl, little girl, what gave she you?""She gave me a diamond as big as my shoe."
by
Mother Goose
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.She had so many children she didn't know what to do.She gave them some broth without any bread.She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
by
Mother Goose
Is John Smith within?Yes, that he is.Can he set a shoe?Ay, marry, two.Here a nail, there a nail,Tick, tack, too.
by
Mother Goose
Shoe the colt, Shoe the colt,Shoe the wild mare; Here a nail, There a nail,Yet she goes bare.
by
Emily Dickinson
I know a place where Summer strives
With such a practised Frost --
She -- each year -- leads her Daisies back --
Recording briefly -- "Lost" --
But when the South Wind stirs the Pools
And struggles in the lanes --
Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow --
And she pours soft Refrains
Into the lap of Adamant --
And spices -- and the Dew --
That stiffens quietly to Quartz --
Upon her Amber Shoe --
by
Stephen Crane
Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
Go pluck a bough and wear it.
It is as sufficing.
My Lord, there are certain barbarians
Who tilt their noses
As if the stars were flowers,
And Thy servant is lost among their shoe-buckles.
Fain would I have mine eyes even with their eyes.
Fool, go pluck a bough and wear it.
by
Emily Dickinson
These -- saw Visions --
Latch them softly --
These -- held Dimples --
Smooth them slow --
This -- addressed departing accents --
Quick -- Sweet Mouth -- to miss thee so --
This -- We stroked --
Unnumbered Satin --
These -- we held among our own --
Fingers of the Slim Aurora --
Not so arrogant -- this Noon --
These -- adjust -- that ran to meet us --
Pearl -- for Stocking -- Pearl for Shoe --
Paradise -- the only Palace
Fit for Her reception -- now --
by
Emily Dickinson
Is Bliss then, such Abyss,
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?
I'd rather suit my foot
Than save my Boot --
For yet to buy another Pair
Is possible,
At any store --
But Bliss, is sold just once.
The Patent lost
None buy it any more --
Say, Foot, decide the point --
The Lady cross, or not?
Verdict for Boot!
by
Emily Dickinson
They leave us with the Infinite.
But He -- is not a man --
His fingers are the size of fists --
His fists, the size of men --
And whom he foundeth, with his Arm
As Himmaleh, shall stand --
Gibraltar's Everlasting Shoe
Poised lightly on his Hand,
So trust him, Comrade --
You for you, and I, for you and me
Eternity is ample,
And quick enough, if true.