Wordsworth’s Daffodils
Inspired by “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” by William Wordsworth

Where one may see a field of flowers
Wordsworth saw a golden host,
Not just a bed of daffodils,
But a dancing court of yellow ghosts.
Though one may see a simple flower,
He saw starlight glowing bright,
Not just a scene of earthy blooms
But living heavens’ shining light.
If you are to come upon
Such a glorious scene as this,
Regard it all as Wordsworth did,
Its wealthy wonders fondly missed

Literary Immortality
Inspired by “Sonnet 18” by William Shakespeare

With the dawning of the sun, you were born,
But such as silver falls, you too will fade.
Falling from this world, perfect golden morn,
Into a hollow grave, a darker shade.
When time, a thief, will execute her skill,
You’ll drift into a darkness never known.
A hunter standing over his fresh kill,
Death holds a scythe, reaping what life has sown.
And yet as poets, we can wield a sword
To slay the grim beast killing what we love.
We write a ballad about our adored.
We weave a sonnet for the dead above.
I mark history and keep you alive.
So long as this shall live, you too survive.

An Ode to Frost
Inspired by “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

The gentle flakes were falling down,
There was no noise so far from town,
The woods were darkened, like the sea,
And I felt sure that he would see
The snow, and ice, and wind the same.
So standing there, I said his name,
A gentle word to find the lost;
Amid the wood, I whispered “Frost”.

Dickinson and Her Bird
Inspired by “Hope is a Thing With Feathers” by Emily Dickinson

She heard a pet canary
Sitting in a silver cage,
Then glanced out her bedroom window
To view a cursed world rich with rage.
She heard the simple creature's song
And smiled despite the sadness,
Then wrote the words that touched us all,
Turning despair to gladness.
And now, in life, when nights are hard,
When lost, when there’s no way to cope,
We may turn our ears to the wind,
Listen to birdsong, and hear hope.

Yeat’s Song of Sorrow
Inspired by “The Song of Wandering Aengus” by William Butler Yeats

There is a man who chases blossoms,
Plucking apples from the trees,
Sitting streamside, lost in sadness,
Sick for a love that used to be.
He scans the depths for silver trout,
Yearning for shimmering silver there,
To hold her by the fireside
And kiss the blossoms in her hair.

Challenging Despair
Inspired by “Binsey Poplars” by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Humanity had failed them on that day.
Those tender trees, that once on warm wind swayed,
Had fallen. They fell hard as bodies fall.
Once standing strong on roots, now they just recall
The joyous life they lived, thriving and free,
But man has made a carcass from the tree.
Lying on moss, it is crushed underfoot,
Soon to become flanker, flame, ash, and soot.
Yet underneath the corpse, an acorn lies,
Nurtured by the earth, watered by the skies.
The smallest bud of hope is born at last.
A small ember of hope to mend the past.
Beneath the death that haunts us, it survives,
Even in sorrow, there’s strength that stays alive.

Early Bird Poet
Inspired by “An Hymn to the Morning” by Phillis Wheatley

She could have lay in bed all morning,
Ignored the birds on sweet wind soaring.
She would have been well justified
To sleep till noon, but thrust aside
Her quilts were, and the floorboards creaked
Under her sure and steady feet.
She burst forth and opened the door!
Let none neglect, let none ignore
The ribbons God was sweetly weaving
Into the light so softly streaming.
The heavens painted every hue
Of holy colors beaming new,
The daylight beasts proclaim their tune,
Singing of dawn, morning, and noon.
The winds joined in the chorus, then,
And o’r the forest, field, and fen,
Quickly fading, was revealed
A sunrise graced with Godly zeal.

Confronting the Nightmare
Inspired by “Darkness” by Lord Byron

I like to think that even during Armageddon,
At the end of times, when all we know has fallen,
When darkness consumes each edge of the earth,
When we have lost all hope of our rebirth,
I will have faith that we shall not despair and quit.
I have faith that we will find the joy that remains in it.
Perhaps you’d think me naive and innocent
That I would hope for light in darkness imminent,
But I believe in us, in all that we could be.
At the end of time, I would have faith in humanity

Endure
Inspired by “The Quitter” by Robert Service

Some men meet death and breathe their last breath
Alone on the Yukon’s expanse.
When scrounging for gold they face the cruel cold,
Surrendering their life to chance.
In moments like these, your last words on the breeze,
As Service found many a day,
Death clutching your skin, you mustn't give in.
Hold your head up, grasp life, and stay