A simple English poem
then
By Spencer Reese
I am a full-time housekeeper. I have no title.
I live in a farmhouse on a hill.
There is 100 acre of land around. All is silent.
These fields belong to government projects
Pay farmers to give up. Perfect.
I overlook Union Lake, a lake full of lakes.
There is an ugly island in the middle.
A mistake, a bunch of dead elms
Surrounded by swamp, like an ear.
Oil painting pigments congealed on the palette.
Pesticides sprayed by farmers on crops
Has been discharged into the lake for years.
Make the water black and the fish tremble.
About the family that built the house
I don't know anything. Built in 1865,
Maybe they came after the civil war?
This is a simple house. Two stories.
Six rooms. Every wall is crooked.
In front of the house, Indians camped there.
If you listen carefully, you will hear their voices.
On Sunday afternoon in early June,
Sunlight will light up the room.
Beams of light passed through the room.
An old gray cat is swilling his dust particles.
Climb up a small staircase, which is steep.
I am often found wandering and half asleep.
I forgot the words, where I live, my dream.
Mirrors around the house, those streams,
Gossip is over. The wall attracted me.
There are indications that I am safe there.
Outside, the children are singing, and the sweet air:
Row, row, row your boat gently down the river.
Happy, happy, happy, happy, life is just a dream. . .
Their fingers are easily combined with each other.
When darkness sets up scaffolding on trees.
Peony is spoiled, and dye flows from their center.
Usually, the lawn is covered with a gentle drizzle.
Days come and go quickly.
The children are gone. The moon has risen.
The cow stops on the green Yuan Ye.
Of all the land that has not been commercialized.
I stayed there for three years. One person. Quietly.
I often wake up when the light starts to fade.
The house is breathing and shaking like a lover.
Because I need time to recover.
Easy-to-understand English Poetry II
There will be light rain.
Author: sara teasdale
It will rain lightly and the ground will collapse.
Swallows hover and make a flashing sound;
Frogs in the pool sing at night,
And trembling white wild plum trees,
Robins will be covered with their feathery flames.
Whistle their whimsy on the low fence;
No one will know about this war, no one.
When it is finished, it will care.
No one will mind, whether it is a bird or a tree.
If mankind is completely destroyed;
Spring herself, when she wakes up at dawn,
Little did I know that we had left.
On Simple English Poetry III
For a few days
John montague.
sometimes
One should be able to
Take off someone's head
Like dents or wear.
Helmet, directly from
Neck back and clavicle
* * * Those crackling branches! ***
Put it down firmly
On the flowing river bed.
Clear, clean and cold water.
Running and shuttling
Sour and stale parts
Brain, blurred eardrum,
Blurred eye bags and blurred tongue coating.
And then bring it back.
At the bottom of the shoulder:
Of course, it's strong,
Pale skin and mouth,
Marble of eyes
Rinse and get ready.
For love; For prophecy?
Easy-to-understand English Poetry 4
They fled me.
Thomas Wyatt
They run away from me, and sometimes I look for it,
Walking around my room barefoot.
I've seen them, gentle, tame, docile,
It's wild now, remember?
Sometimes they put themselves in danger.
Take the bread from my hand; Now they're starting to appear,
Busy looking for constant change.
Thank you for your luck, otherwise,
Twenty times better; But one time it was special,
After a pleasant disguise,
When her loose robe fell from her shoulders,
She held me in her arms for a long time,
So I kissed him sweetly.
And said softly, "dear heart, how can I be like you?"
It's not a dream. I'm awake in bed.
But everything has changed, completely my gentleness,
Become a strange way to abandon;
I had to leave, her kindness,
She also uses novelty.
But since I received such a friendly reception,
I really want to know what she deserves.
Simple English Poetry 5
Thinking in bed
Author: dennis lee
I was thinking in bed,
Because I can't get out
Until I learned how to think
What am I thinking;
What am I thinking?
It's a person
A kind of person
People who feel the same as me.
I may still be Alice,
But I'm not.
Snoopy is great,
But not when it is hot;
I can't be a pig,
I don't think I'm Winnie,
I know I'm not dad.
I can't be you.
My breakfast is ready.
My clothes are all out,
But what is that?
I was thinking.
I'll never get up.
If I lie here all day;
But I still didn't think,
So I have to stay.
If I were Grinch,
I think I'll know.
But I don't think so.
There are so many people.
I don't think so
I guess I can only
Stand up and be me.