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SUMMER POEMS
Welcome to our summer poems -
Here's two favourite poems for summer that paint a wonderful
picture of summer:-
Summer Night
Alfred Lord Tennyson
NOW sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.
Summer Sun
Robert Louis Stevenson
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven without repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic, spider-clad,
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
Indian Summer
Emily Dickinson
These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, -
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
Summer Flowers
Behold the flowers of June! how fair
And bright their buds appear,
As, opening to the summer air,
Our eyes and hearts they cheer!
Who would have thought there could abound
Such beauty and delight
Beneath the cold and wintry ground
That hid those flowers from sight?
That power which made and governs all--
The mighty power of God--
Alone could life and beauty call
Out of the lifeless sod.
And He, who from the Winter's gloom
Can Summer thus disclose,
Shall one day make the desert bloom,
And blossom as the rose.
If you have any favourite poetry or writing about summer, please
email us with your ideas.
Thanks for visiting summer poems.
Here's two favourite poems for summer that paint a wonderful
picture of summer:-
Summer Night
Alfred Lord Tennyson
NOW sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.
Summer Sun
Robert Louis Stevenson
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven without repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic, spider-clad,
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
Indian Summer
Emily Dickinson
These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, -
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
Summer Flowers
Behold the flowers of June! how fair
And bright their buds appear,
As, opening to the summer air,
Our eyes and hearts they cheer!
Who would have thought there could abound
Such beauty and delight
Beneath the cold and wintry ground
That hid those flowers from sight?
That power which made and governs all--
The mighty power of God--
Alone could life and beauty call
Out of the lifeless sod.
And He, who from the Winter's gloom
Can Summer thus disclose,
Shall one day make the desert bloom,
And blossom as the rose.
If you have any favourite poetry or writing about summer, please
email us with your ideas.
Thanks for visiting summer poems.
| Site Map Copyright Poem4Today 2005 summer poems and poetry |
