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Famous Sills Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Sills poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous sills poems. These examples illustrate what a famous sills poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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by Kees, Weldon
...w, in Omaha.

I did not know them then.
My airedale scratches at the door.
And I am back from seeing Milton Sills
And Doris Kenyon. Twelve years old.
The porchlight coming on again....Read More



by Frost, Robert
...in' for life. She lived her whole
Life long in bed, and wrote her things in bed.
I'll show You how she had her sills extended
To entertain the birds and hold the flowers.
Our business first's up attic with her books."

We trod uncomfortably on crunching glass
Through a house stripped of everything
Except, it seemed, the poetess's poems.
Books, I should say!—-if books are what is needed.
A whole edition in a packing case
That, overflowing like a horn o...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...rk lift trucks

And oil-skinned scavengers.





36



Over the Hollows

Weeds on filled-in cellars

Cracked window-sills

At crazy angles

Are megaliths to memory.





37



By the railway cutting

Chained and padlocked

Rusty gates made

My private garden

Of threaded lupins

Pink and blue.





38



My Madeleine

Was Angel Cake

In Marks and Sparks.





39



By what was once

Ben’s Cycle Shop

I stop and stare

Across Leeds Nine

A broken wall

By Cross...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...thorns pricking blood from our fingers

Like the wicked witch in the wood and jam

Jar fulls of frogspawn on the windowsills.

10

The Roundhouse at Holbeck

Housed the engines of Empire

Kirkstall Forge hammered out

Axles and bogeys for wagons

Yellow flames in the velvet

Dark with the great wheel stuck

In the earth for two hundred

Years; when a man jammed in the

Casting shed his body was half

Melted down and those who got

Him out went on a whisky

Spree before t...Read More

by Heaney, Seamus
...ater
In the shade of the banks. Here, every spring
I would fill jampotfuls of the jellied
Specks to range on window-sills at home,
On shelves at school, and wait and watch until
The fattening dots burst into nimble-
Swimming tadpoles. Miss Walls would tell us how
The daddy frog was called a bullfrog
And how he croaked and how the mammy frog
Laid hundreds of little eggs and this was
Frogspawn. You could tell the weather by frogs too
For they were yellow in the sun ...Read More



by Slessor, Kenneth
...r. Everything has been stowed 
Into this room - 500 books all shapes 
And colours, dealt across the floor 
And over sills and on the laps of chairs; 
Guns, photoes of many differant things 
And differant curioes that I obtained..." 

In Sydney, by the spent aquarium-flare 
Of penny gaslight on pink wallpaper, 
We argued about blowing up the world, 
But you were living backward, so each night 
You crept a moment closer to the breast, 
And they were living, all ...Read More

by Sandburg, Carl
...ys.
And the only listeners now are … the rats … and the lizards.

 4

The feet of the rats
scribble on the door sills;
the hieroglyphs of the rat footprints
chatter the pedigrees of the rats
and babble of the blood
and gabble of the breed
of the grandfathers and the great-grandfathers
of the rats.

And the wind shifts
and the dust on a door sill shifts
and even the writing of the rat footprints
tells us nothing, nothing at all
about the greatest city, the greatest...Read More

by Wright, James
.... I crept this afternoon
In weeds once more,
Casual, daydreaming you might not strike
Me down. Mother of window sills and journeys,
Hallower of searching hands,
The sight of my blind man makes me want to weep.
Tiller of waves or whatever, woman or man,
Mother of roots or father of diamonds,
Look: I am nothing.
I do not even have ashes to rub into my eyes....Read More

by Levine, Philip
...Rain filled the streets 
once a year, rising almost 
to door and window sills, 
battering walls and roofs 
until it cleaned away the mess 
we'd made. My father told 
me this, he told me it ran 
downtown and spilled into 
the river, which in turn 
emptied finally into the sea. 
He said this only once 
while I sat on the arm 
of his chair and stared out 
at the banks of gray snow 
melting as the March rain 
streaked past.<...Read More

by Gluck, Louise
...It is a summer evening.
The yellow moths sag
against the locked screens
and the faded curtains
suck over the window sills
and from another building
a goat calls in his dreams.
This is the TV parlor
in the best ward at Bedlam.
The night nurse is passing
out the evening pills.
She walks on two erasers,
padding by us one by one.
MY sleeping pill is white.
It is a splendid pearl;
it floats me out of myself,
my stung skin as alien
as a loose bolt of cloth.<...Read More

by Frost, Robert
...nd found me banking up the house with snow.
And I was burrowing in deep for warmth,
Piling it well above the window-sills.
The snow against the window caught his eye.
‘Hey, that’s a pretty thought’—those were his words.
‘So you can think it’s six feet deep outside,
While you sit warm and read up balanced rations.
You can’t get too much winter in the winter.’
Those were his words. And he went home and all
But banked the daylight out of Avery’s windo...Read More

by Holmes, Oliver Wendell
...Where he could find the strongest oak,
That could n't be split nor bent nor broke, --
That was for spokes and floor and sills;
He sent for lancewood to make the thills;
The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees,
The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese,
But lasts like iron for things like these;
The hubs of logs from the "Settler's ellum," --
Last of its timber, -- they could n't sell 'em,
Never an axe had seen their chips,
And the wedges flew from between the...Read More

by Holmes, Oliver Wendell
...Where he could find the strongest oak,
That could n't be split nor bent nor broke, --
That was for spokes and floor and sills;
He sent for lancewood to make the thills;
The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees,
The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese,
But lasts like iron for things like these;
The hubs of logs from the "Settler's ellum," --
Last of its timber, -- they could n't sell 'em,
Never an axe had seen their chips,
And the wedges flew from between the...Read More

by Kees, Weldon
..., flames
Consumed the Greek
Tragedians and Baudelaire,
Proust, Robert Burton
And the Po-Chu-i. Ice
Thickened on the sills.
More for the sake of the cat,
We said, than for ourselves,
Who huddled, shivering,
Against the stove
All winter long....Read More

by Verhaeren, Emile
...The spot is flaked with mist, that fills,
Thickening into rolls more dank,
The thresholds and the window-sills,
And smokes on every bank.


The river stagnates, pestilent
With carrion by the current sent
This way and that—and yonder lies
The moon, just like a woman dead,
That they have smothered overhead,
Deep in the skies.


In a few boats alone there gleam
Lamps that light up and magnify
The backs, bent over stubbornly,
Of the old fishers of th...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...s,

I found a cottage so overgrown I had to part a mass of green

To touch the door, the window-panes opaque with dirt, sills choked with 

 books,

A rusted letter-box, cracked lintel, lichened roof-slates caving in,

A ‘Sold’ board hammered firmly into place.



2

There was no solace in the parsonage, no solace there at all,

The staff found it odd, my wanting to park my heavy bag and trudge

From room to room. The couch Emily died on, so shabby and so faded,

Patr...Read More

by Laurence Dunbar, Paul
...it flies away.
So birds of peace and hope and love
Come fluttering earthward from above,
To settle on life's window-sills,
And ease our load of earthly ills;
But we, in traffic's rush and din
Too deep engaged to let them in,
With deadened heart and sense plod on,
Nor know our loss till they are gone.
...Read More

by Clark, Badger
...,
  And the world began when I was born
    And the world is mine to win.

  They built high towns on their old log sills,
    Where the great, slow rivers gleamed,
  But with new, live rock from the savage hills
    I'll build as they only dreamed.
  The smoke scarce dies where the trail camp lies,
    Till the rails glint down the pass;
  The desert springs into fruit and wheat
  And I lay the stones of a solid street
    Over yesterday's untrod grass.

  I wa...Read More

by Bogan, Louise
...hing was remembered, nothing forgotten.
When we awoke, wagons were passing on the warm summer pavements,
The window-sills were wet from rain in the night,
Birds scattered and settled over chimneypots
As among grotesque trees.

Nothing was accepted, nothing looked beyond.
Slight-voiced bells separated hour from hour,
The afternoon sifted coolness
And people drew together in streets becoming deserted.
There was a moon, and light in a shop-front,
And dusk falling...Read More

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