Emily Dickinson
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
William Butler Yeats
John Updike
Rainer Maria Rilke
Gwendolyn Brooks
The Poet and the Baby
How's a man to write a sonnet, can you tell, --
How's he going to weave the dim, poetic spell, --
When a-toddling on the floor
Is the muse he must adore,
And this muse he loves, not wisely, but too well?
Now, to write a sonnet, every one allows,
One must always be as quiet as a mouse;
But to write one seems to me
Quite superfluous to be,
When you've got a little sonnet in the house.
Just a dainty little poem, true and fine,
That is full of love and life in every line,
Earnest, delicate, and sweet,
Altogether so complete
That I wonder what 's the use of writing mine.
Paul Laurence Dunbar
Sara Booth
Mary Oliver
William Blake
e. e. cummings
Thom Gunn
