Short Wordsworth Poems
Short Wordsworth Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wordsworth by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wordsworth by length and keyword.
William danced with daffodils
amidst his lovely Cumbrian hills
Penning poesy 'easy on the ear'
is why many hold him dear
Wordsworth would have picked his daffodils to give Valentine day flowers for my sweet pd .
To The Poet Destroyer
From SP
William Wordsworth of Lake District fame
famous in our 'poetic game'
Everyone knows of his 'daffodils'
often his rhyme still thrills
Wandering lonely as a cloud
He saw life, death, springs and fields
Loving lakes greenly
Loving roses redly
And people-
So tenderly
So sadly
Mind like a tendril green
In the inspiration of the sun
Climbing walls unseen
Where common daffodils run
On a ledge of heaven, the angels' form to ken.
to write the words,
an make em speak,
is what me want,
old mate, methinks,
some of the time...
great poem mate...Dave Williams on "Wordsworth"
Don
rabid bard
perforce
binds
untethered reins
of a supple wit
excising
the ornate quills
head lowered
body tilts
into commas
whittling lyrics
through his swivet
Delightful garden bloom
Dazzling colored flower
Delicate stemmed petals
Double-headed beauty
Decorates yards in Spring
Drink in its fragrant scent
'Daffodils' by Wordsworth
English poet, William Wordsworth,
wrote to serve the common people on the earth.
Along with Samuel Coleridge, the Romantic Age he started.
Support for free thought his words imparted.
PLAGIARIST
I started my verse
I wandered lonely as a …
and Wordsworth sued me
14th January 2021
Senryu humorous, satirical are dark contest
Sponsor - Tania Kitchin
we started with thomas hardy
we went onto dickinson
then onto wordsworth
as the clock
ticks
by
the material makes me dry up like a leaf (that’s a simile)
damn these poets and their puniness
Okay, youse guys you're probably on limerick overload
Gonna back off, from now on some Wordsworth stuff will flow
With nose in the air
And clean underwear
Will prove I'm not just another pretty face, you know
I wandered lonely as a cloud
until my feet got wet.
I struggled through the
undergrowth and found myself
beset by insects all around,
my temper wholly spent,
to hell with yellow daffodils
and my predicament!
...with apologies to Mr Wordsworth!
Will you soon speak to me of thy love, Joan
Tell me that you want me as I want you
Can I endure a callous bile adieu
from thy lips most cerise, soft, tender, sweet,
from those which solely I have ever known.
Let’s share, inamorata, time is fleet.
William Wordsworth
England was the place of his birth
He got inspired and became quite thrilled
When he saw a host of golden Daffodils
William Shakespeare
Had great poetic flair
He wrote several plays too
Like Macbeth, King Lear, And The Taming of the Shrew
...to William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
and then my feet got wet.
I struggled through the
undergrowth and found myself
beset by insects nibbling at my
breast, my temper wholly spent;
to hell with yellow daffodils
and my predicament!
Track them most as wanderers
Life's deep ponderers.
Who scales this rarefied air
Breathes in genius!
By what, in fowl, does impress
For soaring progress
Led on as twere. Inspired, more
Again, as if by
Their own breakthroughs, fiery-high.
Divine! Splenderous!
Byron and Shelley have nothing on me
Even Wordsworth is jealous, I hear
Keats and Coleridge, they move me not
Their imagery so drab and so drear
In my room at my desk
I am King of my Castle
Now all that remains is
to pen poems that dazzle
I
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame mysteries in the sky!
II
When the world is too much with us
He sends visions, Ramanujans, Christ
III
Shakespeare had dreams, even awake
When humanity was poor in tea & cake
IV
God gives words to poets: leaves sailing -
To begin - loving a pet, sky - urge growing
I flit and flutter
on the wind
blown
as the spirit leads
drawn by colour
and intense needs
my journee
erratically unfolds-
I alight,
spread my wings
in still life
to make
poets sing.
A sixain inspired by a garden view on holdiday recently and by Wordsworth poem 'The
Butterfly
I guess I'm the greatest poet who ever lived;
The guru of words and a master of tempo
Who knows no rival at any time perceived
To be equal or better than he.
I reckon Wendell was good and Shakespeare great
As well as Wordsworth and Poe and Longfellow and all,
But none of them managed my overcomimg of fate
To pen verse as good as mine.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high as day begun,
Until I see a happy crowd,
YES !! then I'll go and block the Sun .
I'll threaten mist , but dump some showers.
First a gentle fall , then heavy spills.
I'll seek-out Willie Wordsworth's flowers
And rain upon his daffodils .
P.S. Lighten-up folks...... not to be taken seriously...........
Mrs Wordsworth had a new baby
William was his name
She was so proud of her little son
Not expecting his rise to fame
He was a famous poet
I think Poet Laureate of his time
His beautiful choice of words
And the way he made them rhyme
This made him very wealthy
And he knew what his words were worth
I do not think his family name
Was an accident of birth
William Wordsworth!
I recite and read aloud,
wander, lonely as a cloud,
then emulate and create
as memory stimulates;
Swim against poetry's tide
therein,an enigma hide,
perhaps,a step too far,with
Tennyson,crossing the bar;
I dream on Will's sonnet verse,
figuratively,sweet and terse,
lazing life away,with songs
compared to a summer's day.
To conjure an opening line
ever,remembered,as mine.
William Wordsworth 'AFTERTHOUGHT'
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