These I have Loved....

Here follow some favourite poems of mine, in no particular order - many of them have been committed to memory at one time or another - you will find a variety of poets and I hope you will find some of  them to have a message for you or at the very least that you will enjoy  them as much as I have over the years…

THE ROLLING ENGLISH ROAD ~
G.K. Chesterton

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
  The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
  A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
  And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire,
  A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
  The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.

I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
  And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;
  But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed
  To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made,
  Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands,
  The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands.

His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run
  Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun?
  The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which,
  But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch.
  God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear
  The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier.

My friends we will no go again or ape an ancient rage,
  Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,
  But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,
  And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;
          For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,
          Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.

Leisure ~
W.H. Davies

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.