Joy Poems
I Am
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Am
I know not whence I came,
I know not whither I go;
But the fact stands clear that I am here
In this world of pleasure and woe.
And out of the mist and the murk
Another truth shines plain –
It is my power each day and hour
To add to its joy or its pain.
......
Circe
by Augusta Davies Webster
The sun drops luridly into the west;
darkness has raised her arms to draw him down
before the time, not waiting as of wont
till he has come to her behind the sea;
and the smooth waves grow sullen in the gloom
and wear their threatening purple; more and more
the plain of waters sways and seems to rise
convexly from its level of the shores;
and low dull thunder rolls along the beach:
there will be storm at last, storm, glorious storm.
......
Rain
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Yesterday I was in the parched, red desert, where it pours only seldom,
Bearing joy for varicolored cacti blooms, a silvery shower, very welcome.
This morning I deluged the green, pathless forest, at the dawn of purple.
Tomorrow, wet footsteps will travel, down the tree-lined street of myrtle.
In wild days of ago, my fervor caused floods, as I danced in dewberries;
Then a soft, yellow sun spun rich gold, making cherries and cranberries!
While there is gladness everywhere I go, my sporadic errors humble me,
Like an errant wind which blows off course, tenacious, golden honeybee!
Fear
by Sara Teasdale
I am afraid, oh I am so afraid!
The cold black fear is clutching me to-night
As long ago when they would take the light
And leave the little child who would have prayed,
Frozen and sleepless at the thought of death.
My heart that beats too fast will rest too soon;
I shall not know if it be night or noon, --
Yet shall I struggle in the dark for breath?
Will no one fight the Terror for my sake,
The heavy darkness that no dawn will break?
......
The Trials of Tommy Tucker
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Tommy Tucker was a youth of slight build, seeming younger than twenty,
Which was Tommy's true age; like a lone, silver star, apart from the plenty.
Tommy was well known for his great singing voice, so silky and stunning,
That people paid to hear him croon; like honey throated bees, humming.
But, as it wasn't enough to pay his bills, Tommy retained his daytime job;
As lilies hold their place in lemony sun, in fields where beauty is mobbed.
Fortuitous fate frequently fetched friends, some blooming, fuchsia Fridays;
......
The Trials of Tommy Tucker
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Tommy Tucker was a youth of slight build, seeming younger than twenty,
Which was Tommy's true age; like a lone, silver star, apart from the plenty.
Tommy was well known for his great singing voice, so silky and stunning,
That people paid to hear him croon; like honey throated bees, humming.
But, as it wasn't enough to pay his bills, Tommy retained his daytime job;
As lilies hold their place in lemony sun, in fields where beauty is mobbed.
Fortuitous fate frequently fetched friends, some blooming, fuchsia Fridays;
......
Shoo
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I was a competent, happy housewife, but that was before my husband died,
Leaving me to rear myriad children solo, as the lone star twinkles with pride.
John had left us a prosperous farm, with a lovely home, shaped like a shoe;
And our older children did farm work daily, as they'd ever been wont to do.
My older children were reliable and steadfast, since they were nearly grown;
But, my young ones often got in mischief, and my eldest didn't live at home.
Although I loved my children dearly, they did ofttimes, seem to be in my hair.
......
Bougainvillea Bedazzle
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
cascades of color
creates fragrance enigma
bougainvillea
purple sun pastime
and lushness now has a name
sangria dawn fame
peach noon honey glazed
lends sparkle to cherry blooms
......
Umpf
by Sihle Mjobo
Calm in chaos
Classic comical chorus
Mystery theme, soul’s strain
Torturous tones, spirit’s refrain
Strumming the sinews of the heart
Wallowing in the melody of melancholy
Gentle chords, seldom pull apart
Tender tugs, sustain the harmony
Dancing to the end of love
......
Rain
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Yesterday I was in the parched, red desert, where it pours only seldom,
Bearing joy for varicolored cacti blooms, a silvery shower, very welcome.
This morning I deluged the green, pathless forest, at the dawn of purple.
Tomorrow, wet footsteps will travel, down the tree-lined street of myrtle.
In wild days of ago, my fervor caused floods, as I danced in dewberries;
Then a soft, yellow sun spun rich gold, making cherries and cranberries!
While there is gladness everywhere I go, my sporadic errors humble me,
Like an errant wind which blows off course, tenacious, golden honeybee!
-
-
-
-
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (51 poems about Joy)
5 November 1850 - 30 October 1919 / Johnstown Center / Rock County / Wisconsin -
-
-
-
Anne Brontë (33 poems about Joy)
7 January 1820 – 28 May 1849 / Thornton, West Riding of Yorkshire, England -
-
James Macpherson (27 poems about Joy)
27 October 1736 – 17 February 1796 / Ruthven, Kingussie, Badenoch, Inverness-Shire, Scotland