|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Author : Emily Dickinson
Part Two: Nature
LXXXV
A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here
A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels....
|
|
Author : Emily Brontë
No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere;
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And Faith shines equal, arming me from fear.
O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life—that in me has...
|
|
Author : CR Mittal
Between burning sands and perennial snows lies the zone of twilight dreams.
It's here one savours the conversion of fragrance into honey.
It's here that songs blossom and a touch of rose upon cheeks induces a fatal...
|
|
Author : Christine Klocek-Lim
When you’re away
I drink naked tea:
no cloudy milk,
no sweet
sugar.
I use your cup,
place my lips
just so
on the edge
where I imagine
your mouth...
|
|
Author : CR Mittal
Often, as a child, hurt, I wept by the sun
only to see rainbows in my tears—
it so distracted me, I forgot my pain
to enjoy instead the kaleidoscope.
The playgrounds were a vast expanse of green
to skip, run...
|
|
Author : Janet Lynn Davis
for Judy
This poem is not about death;
there are too many of those.
It is about everything else:
the long discussions of when
we were seven or twenty-two;
how we fancied being “great writers”
(both of us, even then);...
|
|
Author : Michael D. Petti
LXXXIII
My life is but a poor man's honesty—
A daily, dogged race that still affords
Somehow to fend off numbing poverty,
By sharing heartfelt what my heart awards.
So, my life knows no paucity of heart,
Makes poor...
|
|
Author : Kimberly Duffin
A new dawn breaks the last eve’s slumber
Stretch, groan, sigh, smile
Today is full of potential, possibilities
Where to begin from the point of no beginning?
Seamless days and nights converge
Time moves forward quickly
But is it...
|
|
Author : Lucius Furius
No garden flowers for me,
no gaudy, painted flowers
(hotel swimming pools beside the ocean).
Give me wildflowers --
ironweed and jewelweed,
chicory and Queens-Anne's-lace.
- Lucius Furius
|
|
Author : Laurence Binyon
Nothing is enough!
No, though our all be spent—
Heart's extremest love,
Spirit's whole intent,
All that nerve can feel,
All that brain invent,—
Still beyond appeal
Will Divine Desire
Yet more excellent ...
|
|
Author : Auden, W.H.
Now the leaves are falling fast,
Nurse's flowers will not last,
Nurses to their graves are gone,
But the prams go rolling on.
Whispering neighbors left and right
Daunt us from our true delight,
Able hands are left to freeze...
|
|
Author : Browning, Robert
Out of your whole life give but a moment!
All of your life that has gone before,
All to come after it, — so you ignore,
So you make perfect the present, — condense,
In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endowement, ...
|
|
Author : Robert Frost
The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day.
As long as it takes to pass
A ship keeps raising its hull;
The wetter ground like glass
Reflects a standing...
|
|
Author : Sultana Raza
There was once a time
when people wrote poetry
for the sake of poetry itself
no slashing of paper with
the red ink of pain
no squirmings of self-pity
in pale blue ink
no rantings against the world
in merciless black ink
no...
|
|
Author : Bryant, William Cullen
Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!
One mellow smile through the soft vapoury air,
Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds ran,
Or snows are sifted o'er the meadows bare.
One smile on the brown hills and naked trees,
And...
|
|
Author : Alison Williams
You worry too much,
he said, I know a way
to prove it.
I'll suggest something
that's nothing to worry about,
and see what you do.
Imagine -
he smiled at me - imagine
you're a statue.
I...
|
|
Author : Mukesh Williams
You yearn for the sea
Its ultramarine blue,
Its darkening shades at sunset,
Its thick gurgle and echo.
It tugs at your heart strings,
Shames your imagination,
Pacifies your agitation,
Gives you a focus and a goal.
Then it...
|
|
Author : Rumi
[Maulana's Last Letter to Shams]
Sometimes I wonder, sweetest love, if you
Were a mere dream in a long winter night,
A dream of spring-days, and of golden light
Which sheds its rays upon a frozen heart;
A dream of wine that...
|
|
Author : Laryalee Fraser
As shadows lengthen and our pace is slowed, we huddle on the brink of fading day, endure the ache of brittle bones where once the surge of youthful fervor had its way. We've seen the breakneck speeds, the techno leaps each...
|
|
Author : Burns, Robert
Great Nature spoke: observant man obey'd-Pope. Let other heroes boast their scars, The marks of sturt and strife: And other poets sing of wars, The plagues of human life: Shame fa' the fun, wi' sword and gun To slap mankind like lumber! I...
|
|
Author : Helen Hunt Jackson
A Calendar of Sonnets: November This is the treacherous month when autumn days With summer's voice come bearing summer's gifts. Beguiled, the pale down-trodden aster lifts Her head and blooms again. The soft, warm haze Makes moist once more the...
|
|
Author : Mary Morrison
How many buttons are missing today? Nobody knows but Mother. How many playthings are strewn in her way? Nobody knows but Mother. How many thimbles and spools has she missed? How many burns on each fat little fist? How many bumps to be cuddled and...
|
|
Author : Heather Walton
I've known too many to say they care; I've known too many to say they'd be there. I've known too many to say they were mine, I've known too many to give me that line. I've known to many who told me a lie; I've known to many who made me cry. I've...
|
|
Author : Joseph Parry
Make new friends, but keep the old; Those are silver, these are gold. New-made friendships, like new wine, Age will mellow and refine. Friendships that have stood the test- Time and change-are surely best; Brow may wrinkle, hair grow gray,...
|
|
Author : Stevie Smith
Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh,...
|
|
Powered by AlphaContent 3.0.4 © 2005-2008 - All rights reserved |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
"If we do not find anything pleasant, at least we shall find something new." ~ Voltaire |
|
Home 
Poetry 
