What's Your Favorite Poem?

Would my fellow Dreamers mind sharing their favorite poems? I would love to read a good variety. I might use one for a class project.

My favorite poem by my favorite poet of all time, Shel Silverstein

Pablo Neruda - Te Amo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uczUuifbLEs

sorry spanish only

Love of you is mixed deep in my vitals,

like water stirred into flour for bread,

Like simples compound in a sweet-tasting drug,

like pastry and honey mixed to perfection,

Oh, hurry to look at your love!

Be like horses charging in battle,

Like a gardener up with the sun

burning to watch his prize bud open.

High heaven causes a girl’s lovelonging.

It is like being too far from the light,

Far from the hearth of familiar arms.

It is this being so tangled in you.

Ancient Egyptian Poetry (1300-1100 bc)

Translation by John L Foster

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Monkeys like you,

Belong in the zoo.

beautiful!

^ so you stick with the classics, eh? lol

I like to read amateur poetry and create my own in my spare time.Here's one I just came up with.
----------
The Dream.....


You are elusive,nothing but an illusion...

Why do you haunt me so with your mystery

Some say you are green,others say you are red,white and blue

Are you the Specter of my past,or future?

It doesn't matter,

You are apart of me,come home....come home!

Thank you very much everyone! I decided to go with "Mask" - short, simple and sweet but can be interpreted in whichever way the reader sees fit.

"If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine."
— Pablo Neruda

You shouldve used this man:

Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour,
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem Nature in hir corages),
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.