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Minds of men
Layered thoughts
Tolstoyed novels inside a pen
You do
Carol Shaw
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Why didn't God give to me the knack of writing poetry? Of all the things possessed by man, I envy most the gifted hand That guided by a rhyming mind, can scribe out passion line by line. It's not I am a man...
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it's good for me
it tones up my cerebral six-pack
it's an exercise regime
to tighten up my scansion
tickle my tmesis
perhaps even stiffen my pathetic fallacy
it makes me laugh
the joke puns allusions
some are for general...
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Woodman, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not! That old familiar tree, ...
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[from Additional Poems, III]
When Adam walked in Eden young,
Happy, 'tis writ, was he,
While high the fruit of knowledge hung
Unbitten on a tree.
Happy was he the livelong day;
I doubt 'tis written wrong:
The heart...
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We'll be true to each other, though Fate has now parted Two spirits that yearn with devotion and love; We will show the hard world that we both are strong-hearted, And the wings of the eagle shall nestle our dove. They say thou art young, and that I...
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"How much do babies cost?" said he
The other night upon my knee;
And then I said: "They cost a lot;
A lot of watching by a cot,
A lot of sleepless hours and care,
A lot of heart-ache and despair,
A lot of fear and...
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"Which shall it be? Which shall it be?"
I look'd at John - John look'd at me
(Dear, patient John, who loves me yet
As well as though my locks were jet);
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seem'd...
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LXXXV
Again, I come to meet your majesty,
to gaze upon the grandeur of your face;
in awe, I touch your skin, its velvety
seduction, soft to fingers stroking space.
From languid light of lazy morning's rise
to dreamy...
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When I have fears that I may cease to be
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I...
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A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered...
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Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May —
Waiting for the pleasant rambles,
Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles,
With the woodbine alternating,
Scent the dewy way.
Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the...
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All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair—
The bees are stirring—birds are on the wing—
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, ...
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And here I am with my bow fully drawn,
my sights on a buck at the break of dawn.
First day of the season, it could end right here
but no, for now I'll pass on this deer.
All year I dream of my time in the stand.
To checkout old...
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And what is Life? An hour-glass on the run,
A mist retreating from the morning sun,
A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream.
Its length? A minute's pause, a moment's thought.
And Happiness? A bubble on the stream,
That in the act of...
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Awoke to the winter wonderment
How quickly the rain can change
Fluff gently falling crossways
Snuggling once reaching the earth
The dull cast is brightened
By the crystalline reflection
Ahhh, to be able to enjoy the bliss
Yet...
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For a name unknown,
Whose fame unblown
Sleeps in the hills
For ever and aye;
For her who hears
The stir of the years
Go by on the wind
By night and day;
And heeds no thing
Of the needs of Spring,
Of Autumn's...
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He was just a little lad,
And on the week's first day.
He was wandering home from Sunday School,
And dawdling on the way.
He scuffed his shoes into the grass;
He found a caterpillar;
He found a fluffy milkweed pod, ...
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He's such a little bundle;
So very soft to touch.
He looks just like a cherub,
And we love him oh so much.
He is so very perfect,
And we are so glad he's here..
We know the future holds great things
For one so very dear....
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I am hollow with petals of August.
My thoughts form deadened fields, even
before the sun is opened full.
The air hangs humid, in tarry slabs.
Bricks of heat are savage
against backs, across faces,
While garden plants lie...
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I want to wrap myself in poems,
pull on cashmere shawls of words,
snuggle into sweaters of similes,
make metaphysical messages knit magic
into a pattern imprinted on my mind
clothing metres of imagination
with softness sheared...
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In the darkness you sit waiting,
High above the forest floor.
The new day's sun will soon be rising,
And you'll be hunting once more.
You sit. You wait.
You wonder. You listen.
How the dew on the leaves
At sunrise glistens.
...
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It was your way, my dear,
To be gone without a word
When callers, friends, or kin
Had left, and I hastened in
To rejoin you, as I inferred.
And when you'd a mind to career
Off anywhere — say to town —
You were...
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Medals Flashing In The Sun
Reminders 0f Past Deeds Done.
Pinned In Rows On A Chest
For Love 0f County He Did His Best.
Now White-Haired And Wrinkled Face
In Legion Garb He Stands In Place
Recalling Memories 0f His Youth
He And...
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My better half is busy tonight,
and my soul is wandering,
meeting eyes and stares,
seeing lazy smiles and
eyebrows raising
that would be invisible
if my better half were here.
Is it good to know that
I am not fixated,...
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