It's difficult to discuss the perfect poem without first agreeing on how to define it, which is impossible since poetry is subjective.
However, it's interesting to see people's preferences, and some lovely poems have been posted above.
Here's a favourite of mine:
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
William Butler Yeats
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