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Famous Short Sun Poems

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


by Langston Hughes
 I been scared and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done Tried to make me Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'-- But I don't care! I'm still here!



by Langston Hughes
 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
 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 D A Levy
kisses
we tried to save
pressed in books
like flowers from
a sun warmed day
only
years later to
open yellowing pages
to find those same
kisses - wilted and dry.

by Emily Dickinson
 This Consciousness that is aware
Of Neighbors and the Sun
Will be the one aware of Death
And that itself alone

Is traversing the interval
Experience between
And most profound experiment
Appointed unto Men --

How adequate unto itself
Its properties shall be
Itself unto itself and none
Shall make discovery.
Adventure most unto itself The Soul condemned to be -- Attended by a single Hound Its own identity.



Flames  Create an image from this poem
by Billy Collins
 Smokey the Bear heads
into the autumn woods
with a red can of gasoline
and a box of wooden matches.
His ranger's hat is cocked at a disturbing angle.
His brown fur gleams under the high sun as his paws, the size of catcher's mitts, crackle into the distance.
He is sick of dispensing warnings to the careless, the half-wit camper, the dumbbell hiker.
He is going to show them how a professional does it.

by Thomas Hood
 No sun - no moon! 
No morn - no noon - 
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member - No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! - November!

by Tupac Shakur
Can You See the Pride In the Panther
As he grows in splendor and grace
Topling obstacles placed in the way,
of the progression of his race.
Can You See the Pride In the Panther as she nurtures her young all alone The seed must grow regardless of the fact that it is planted in stone.
Can You See the Pride In the Panthers as they unify as one.
The flower blooms with brilliance, and outshines the rays of the sun.

by Adelaide Crapsey
Sun and wind and beat of sea,
Great lands stretching endlessly…
Where be bonds to bind the free?
All the world was made for me! 

by Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

by Ted Kooser
 Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing, feasting on every green moment till darkness calls, and with the others I walk away into the night, swinging the little tin bell of my name.

by William Shakespeare
 Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun, And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleas'd with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.

by D. H. Lawrence
 The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun, 
The crisping steam of a train 
Melts in the air, while two black birds 
Sweep past the window again.
Along the vacant road, a red Bicycle approaches; I wait In a thaw of anxiety, for the boy To leap down at our gate.
He has passed us by; but is it Relief that starts in my breast? Or a deeper bruise of knowing that still She has no rest.

by Donald Justice
 Thirty today, I saw
The trees flare briefly like
The candles on a cake,
As the sun went down the sky,
A momentary flash,
Yet there was time to wish

by William Blake
 Ah Sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire.
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

by Walt Whitman
 THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country barn, 
A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding; 
And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.

by Sara Teasdale
 I have come to bury Love
 Beneath a tree,
In the forest tall and black
 Where none can see.
I shall put no flowers at his head, Nor stone at his feet, For the mouth I loved so much Was bittersweet.
I shall go no more to his grave, For the woods are cold.
I shall gather as much of joy As my hands can hold.
I shall stay all day in the sun Where the wide winds blow, -- But oh, I shall cry at night When none will know.

Teeth  Create an image from this poem
by Spike Milligan
 English Teeth, English Teeth! 
Shining in the sun 
A part of British heritage 
Aye, each and every one.
English Teeth, Happy Teeth! Always having fun Clamping down on bits of fish And sausages half done.
English Teeth! HEROES' Teeth! Hear them click! and clack! Let's sing a song of praise to them - Three Cheers for the Brown Grey and Black.

by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
 One grand boulevard with trees
with one grand cafe in sun
with strong black coffee in very small cups.
One not necessarily very beautiful man or woman who loves you.
One fine day.

by Paul Eluard
 The wind 
Undecided 
Rolls a cigarette of air 

The mute girl talks: 
It is art's imperfection.
This impenetrable speech.
The motor car is truly launched: Four martyrs' heads Roll under the wheels.
Ah! a thousand flames, a fire, The light, a shadow! The sun is following me.
A feather gives to a hat A touch of lightness: The chimney smokes.

by Langston Hughes
 Being walkers with the dawn and morning,
Walkers with the sun and morning,
We are not afraid of night,
Nor days of gloom,
Nor darkness--
Being walkers with the sun and morning.

by Confucius
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 Henry David Thoreau
 On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.

by Sylvia Plath
 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 Percy Bysshe Shelley
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!


Book: Reflection on the Important Things