Best Victorian Poems

My great, great Aunt had a lovely old home,
with many a wonderful story,
hidden within its walls.

A Victorian, architectural designers dream;
vaulted ceilings, full of ghosts;
where spirit voices sang of its splendor.

What I remember most, were the sparkly door knobs;
prisms reflecting the sunlight; 
beautiful rainbow colors, 
adorning...

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On a broad street 'neath spreading sycamores sits a stately dwelling.
Its elegance and surrounding grounds are so very compelling.
Gracious gardens and towering pines enhance its wide expanse,
All girded by a charming, yet sturdy, white iron picket fence.

Gingerbread ornamentation adorns its every eave and gable.
At the...

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Born into a life of poverty crime and squalor
where hunger and cold winds bite
and disease is rife
and it was a daily battle to stay alive
and find some food to stay alive.

Uneducated illiterate caught in the poverty trap
drinking polluted water
from the same polluted cholera riddled tap.

An...

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Father Christmas is in the night sky his sleigh and reindeer a silhouette in the moonlight,
He has traveled all over the world to lavish his presents to small sleeping children,
A family has retired and left a mince pie and some sherry, the little ones dreaming,
Mr....

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Victorian Poverty In London.
.
Slumming it in adverse poverty
In Victorian London’s  
Limehouse White Chapel and Bethnal Green 
Dingy doss houses packed to the brim
Narrow dirty streets with cobbles
And loud cartwheel din
.
Large families sharing one room
Overcrowded Cold and damp 
Many children to one bed
Lit by candle...

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Duchess in her finery 
Duke in his chair
people wander round
looking without care


Taking airs and graces
talking with a plum
searching night for treason
drinking too much rum


Livery boy falls over
lady screams in fear
was that Queen Victoria 
leaving out the rear ?


Abused and mistreated
maid’s hurry about their toil
cooks in...

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There is happy ado on the old farmstead as Yuletide draws nigh.
Wondrous things to savor as gales blow and snow begins to fly!
The tempest rages for days - they will surely be snowbound,
But a blazing fire warms the old home - love and cheer abound!

Since...

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Victorian Era
~Victorian Era~
I think that the Victorian age would have suited me
The ingenuity fashion the great exhibition
Would all have been fascinating for me to see.
Not a child up chimneys, that’s not my mission
Not a Debtors Prison or Blacking factory.
None of these I’d do, that’s not...

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Every day on my shore walk, I walk by a beautiful old dilapidated Victorian Inn 
It’s been vacant for many years since a rumored double murder happened within
Today, oddly, I notice a light on inside as I cautiously walk to the front door
I enter the...

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The person in the Victorian mirror
Is getting fat and bald
Spots appear 
Where there was once perfection
Inches of height disappear
From those on the drivers license

He has gone from someone
To someone else
Approaching no one

Hunched over
And shuffling somewhat 
When he walks
He dresses up in his finest old cloths
Each...

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Passing a cemetery gate I walked in I could see all the epitaphs chronicling deaths,
The dates were all times and seasons and there were little graves for little babies,
Daisies mark children's resting places their small hands used to make them into chains,
Other huge graves showed...

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Tires hurt,

 leaning left
 far too long-

Rubbed raw…

A few feet away, fist-sized clouds of
Tiny Scarlet Trempeleau Butterflies paused-

Sipping nectar glistening like jewels from
Morning drops of dew, clinging to the running

Strands of Wild Pea Bush, with only daybreak in 
The distance…

These beasts outside my window,
Hazy under...

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There stands the Victorian house
by the small dogwood tree I planted at the age
of nineteen thinking of a colorful spring;
what a subtle joy palpitating inside
at a short distance, before Lassie starts barking:
her hearing is sharper than mine!  

I stop walking with a curious reflection:
who...

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My mother's name was Seraphine
A sadder child was never seen 
Her duty was to serve the table
Of newly widowed Mrs. Grable

Her husband Mr. Grable died
To keep the British gratified
For which the lady, born and bred
Was brought to stay with Master Ted

Their lineage was the House...

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The midnight masquerade ball.
Seemingly slight brocade shawl.
Beseechingly glance, decayed hall.
Haunted trance, unafraid fall.
Vaunted skies evade all.
She tries dissuade call.
Decree daylight, unmade, befall....

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