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Yee yee! We've found 334 poems matching telling.

Telling the Bees
Lizette Woodworth Reese
cheek did run, Bathsheba standing in the sun, Telling the bees. My mother had that moment died; UnRate it:

(5.00 / 1 vote)
Telling the Bees
John Greenleaf Whittier
sun Had the chill of snow; For I knew she was telling the bees of one Gone on the journey we allRate it:

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Telling You All
Rainer Maria Rilke
Telling you all would take too long. Besides, we read in the Bible how the good is harmful and how misfortune is good. Let's invite something new ...Rate it:

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Telling the Bees: (For Edward Tennant)
Katharine Tynan
Tell it to the bees, lest they Umbrage take and fly away, That the dearest boy is dead, Who went singing, blithe and dear, By the golden hives last...Rate it:

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To A Young Lady, Who Was Fond Of Fortune-Telling
Matthew Prior
You, Madam, may, with safety go Decrees of destiny to know; For at your birth kind planets reign'd, And certain happiness ordain'd: Such charms as ...Rate it:

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What The Poet Was Telling Himself In 1848
Victor Marie Hugo
You mustn't seek out power, mustn't grab the helm Your work lies elsewhere, spirit of another realm, In innocence withdraw before this moment here....Rate it:

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I'd Just started
Nikhil Parekh
astoundingly pristine face right infront of me; telling me that I'd just started; and there was an Rate it:

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3 Complete Days,3 Complete Nights
Nikhil Parekh
obdurate ground, And today you were blatantly telling me in my face; that you planned to leave me Rate it:

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Poetry; Poetry And Only Poetry
Nikhil Parekh
Telling me to go to office; spending marathon hours of the day under menacing eyes of my disgustingly manipulative boss, Was like asking a man to ...Rate it:

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From 'The Testament of Beauty'
Robert Seymour Bridges
and dreamt; and in thatt dream methought I was telling a dream; nor telling was I as one who, trulyRate it:

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The Wind’s Tidings In August 1870
Augusta Davies Webster
lake Are dreaming to thy dreaming lullaby? Art telling of hushed scenes like these? Awake, Answer, Rate it:

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twist, twist
moamad safan
a dancer did When one heard A melody Telling something important Showing the heart interesting Rate it:

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A Martyr in Lace and Five and Dime Cologne
Sonia Walker
us the old-world ways of baking, healing, story-telling and nurturing. Grandmother's apron was a sRate it:

(5.00 / 1 vote)
The Banana's Lullaby
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
opiates And sing it off to sleep. And they're telling bedtime stories to bananas, And rocking litRate it:

(1.00 / 1 vote)
A Song Of Impossibilities
Winthrop Mackworth Praed
best, I may be yours again! When peers from telling money shrink, Or monks from telling lies; Rate it:

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Ballade Of A Talked-Off Ear
Dorothy Parker
and woe, Nightly I hearken to knave or to ace, Telling me stories of lava and snow, Delicate fablesRate it:

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Hopeful Hawkins
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
business head. (That's why I'm standing here and telling this.) He was trav'ling for a company, inRate it:

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Mountains
Henry Kendall
by my window, speaketh to my restless soul, Telling of the clime she came from, where the silent moRate it:

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Muley Malak
John Boyle O'Reilly
Tabah the Captain, stands by the curtained bed, Telling him news of the fight—how the waves roll anRate it:

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Noonday Grace
John Crowe Ransom
thick in gold and black. There's no telling what that secret pair Have cooked for me in the kitchRate it:

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The Bore
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
sense of humour hath he none, No gift for telling tales hath he: Yet thinks himself within his hearRate it:

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The Fiddle And The Crowd
Roderic Quinn
that I am singing, For it is a song entrancing. Telling now of gladness ringing, Telling now of chiRate it:

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The Ghost - Book I
Charles Churchill
as much, at least. Hence all the fortune-telling crew, Whose crafty skill mars Nature's hue, Who, iRate it:

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The Hounds
John Freeman
Far off a lonely hound Telling his loneliness all round To the dark woods, dark hills, and darker sea; And, answering, the sound Of that yet lonel...Rate it:

(0.00 / 0 votes)
The Sea to the Shell
David MacDonald Ross
The sea, my mother, with billowy swell, Is telling her tale to the wave-washed shell. The sea, Rate it:

(0.00 / 0 votes)

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