Aubade

Related poetry:

1. In January Only one cell in the frozen hive of night Is lit, or so it seems to us: This Vietnamese café, with its oily light, Its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers. Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks. Beyond the glass, the wintry city Creaks like an ancient wooden bridge. A great wind rushes […]...
2. Rice Pudding What is the matter with Mary Jane? She’s crying with all her might and main, And she won’t eat her dinner – rice pudding again – What is the matter with Mary Jane? What is the matter with Mary Jane? I’ve promised her dolls and a daisy-chain, And a book about animals – all in […]...
3. No Swan So Fine “No water so still as the Dead fountains of Versailles.” No swan, With swart blind look askance And gondoliering legs, so fine As the chinz china one with fawn- Brown eyes and toothed gold Collar on to show whose bird it was. Lodged in the Louis Fifteenth Candelabrum-tree of cockscomb- Tinted buttons, dahlias, Sea-urchins, and […]...
4. Invocation to Youth COME then, as ever, like the wind at morning! Joyous, O Youth, in the aged world renew Freshness to feel the eternities around it, Rain, stars and clouds, light and the sacred dew. The strong sun shines above thee: That strength, that radiance bring! If Winter come to Winter, When shall men hope for Spring?...
5. Aubade HARK! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings, And Phoebus ‘gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With everything that pretty bin, My lady sweet, arise! Arise, arise!...
6. Paul McNeely Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane! How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill) In your nurse’s cap and linen cuffs, And took my hand and said with a smile: “You are not so ill you’ll soon be well.” And how the liquid thought of your eyes Sank in my eyes like dew […]...
7. To My Wife – With A Copy Of My Poems I can write no stately proem As a prelude to my lay; From a poet to a poem I would dare to say. For if of these fallen petals One to you seem fair, Love will waft it till it settles On your hair. And when wind and winter harden All the loveless land, It […]...
8. Elegy For Jane Kenyon Jane is big With death, Don Sad and kind – Jane Though she’s dying Is full of mind We talk about the table The little walnut one How it’s like Emily Dickinson’s But Don says No Dickinson’s Was made of iron. No Said Jane Of flesh....
9. Rosemary For the sake of some things That be now no more I will strew rushes On my chamber-floor, I will plant bergamot At my kitchen-door. For the sake of dim things That were once so plain I will set a barrel Out to catch the rain, I will hang an iron pot On an iron […]...
10. Aubade I work all day, and get half-drunk at night. Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare. In time the curtain-edges will grow light. Till then I see what’s really always there: Unresting death, a whole day nearer now, Making all thought impossible but how And where and when I shall myself die. Arid interrogation: […]...
11. In Bertram's Garden Jane looks down at her organdy skirt As if it somehow were the thing disgraced, For being there, on the floor, in the dirt, And she catches it up about her waist, Smooths it out along one hip, And pulls it over the crumpled slip. On the porch, green-shuttered, cool, Asleep is Bertram that bronze […]...
12. Lodged The rain to the wind said, ‘You push and I’ll pelt.’ They so smote the garden bed That the flowers actually knelt, And lay lodged though not dead. I know how the flowers felt....
13. One Inch Tall If you were only one inch tall, you’d ride a worm to school. The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool. A crumb of cake would be a feast And last you seven days at least, A flea would be a frightening beast If you were one inch tall. If you were […]...
14. Presentiment ‘ SISTER, you’ve sat there all the day, Come to the hearth awhile; The wind so wildly sweeps away, The clouds so darkly pile. That open book has lain, unread, For hours upon your knee; You’ve never smiled nor turned your head What can you, sister, see? ‘ ‘ Come hither, Jane, look down the […]...
15. AUBADE Dawn’s my Mr Right, already Cocks have crowed, birds flown from nests, The neon lights of Leeds last night still Sovereign in my sights, limousines and Pink baloons, tee shirts with green stencilled Dates of wedding days to come, the worn dance floor, Jingling arcades where chrome fendered fruit machines Rest on plush carpets like […]...
16. The Pitcher THE simple Jane was sent to bring Fresh water from the neighb’ring spring; The matter pressed, no time to waste, Jane took her jug, and ran in haste The well to reach, but in her flurry (The more the speed the worse the hurry), Tripped on a rolling stone, and broke Her precious pitcher, ah! […]...
17. Manufactured Gods THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden gods And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and put up A doughface god with gold earrings. The poor mutts, the pathetic slant heads, They didn’t know a little tin god Is as good as […]...
18. Aubade As I would free the white almond from the green husk So would I strip your trappings off, Beloved. And fingering the smooth and polished kernel I should see that in my hands glittered a gem beyond counting....
19. Transcription Of Organ Music The flower in the glass peanut bottle formerly in the kitchen crooked to take a place in the light, The closet door opened, because I used it before, it kindly stayed open waiting for me, its owner. I began to feel my misery in pallet on floor, listening to music, my misery, that’s why I […]...
20. The Crane & The Fox, a Fable In long gone years a fox and crane Were bound in friendship’s golden chain; Whene’er they met, the fox would bow And madame Crane would curtsie low- -My lovely Crane how do you do? -I’m very well – pray how are you? Thus time passed on, both very civil Till Reynard in an hour evil […]...
21. Dawning There are hours when every thing creaks When chairs stretch their arms, tables their legs And closets crack their backs, incautiously Fed up with the polite fantasy Of having to stay in one place And stick to their stations Humans too, at work, or in love Know such aches and growing pains When inner furnishings […]...
22. Tidy I miss you too. Something old is broken, Nobody’s in hell. Sometimes I kiss strangers, Sometimes no one speaks. Today in fact It’s raining. I go out on the lawn. It’s such a tiny garden, Like a photo of a pool. I am cold, Are you? Sometimes we go dancing, Cars follow us back home. […]...
23. Opening the Geode When the molten earth seethed In its whirling cauldron Nobody watched the pot From a tall wooden stool Set out in windy space Beyond flame’s reach; And when the spattering mush Steamed, gurgled, boiled over, Mounded up in smoking hills No giant mixing spoon Smoothed out the lumps and bubbles As the pottage cooled to […]...
24. Camping in a kitchen To say we’ve done it all before is not to bend The truth and though we’ve lost our youth The vision of the bright contemporary kitchen Draws us on, sustaining us beyond our strength. It’s all the donkey work that palls upon the weary joints, The stripping off of stubborn tiles, the cupboards With reviled […]...
25. La Figlia che Piange O quam te memorem virgo… STAND on the highest pavement of the stair- Lean on a garden urn- Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair- Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise- Fling them to the ground and turn With a fugitive resentment in your eyes: But weave, weave the sunlight in your […]...
26. Jane My daughter Jane makes dresses For beautiful Princesses; But though she’s plain is Jane, Of needlework she’s vain, And makes such pretty things For relatives of Kings. She reads the picture papers Where Royalties cut capers, And often says to me: ‘How wealthy they must be, That nearly every day A new robe they can […]...
27. Symbol The winter apples have been picked, the garden turned. Rain and wind have picked the maple leaves and gone. The last of them now bank the house or have been burned. None are left upon the trees or on the lawn. Green and tall as ever it grew in spring the grass Grows not too […]...
28. A Song Of Winter Weather It isn’t the foe that we fear; It isn’t the bullets that whine; It isn’t the business career Of a shell, or the bust of a mine; It isn’t the snipers who seek To nip our young hopes in the bud: No, it isn’t the guns, And it isn’t the Huns It’s the MUD, MUD, […]...
29. Aunt Jane When Aunt Jane died we hunted round, And money everywhere we found. How much I do not care to say, But no death duties will we pay, And Aunt Jane will be well content We bilked the bloody Government. While others spent she loved to save, But couldn’t take it to her grave. While others […]...
30. The Mare's Nest Jane Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse Was good beyond all earthly need; But, on the other hand, her spouse Was very, very bad indeed. He smoked cigars, called churches slow, And raced but this she did not know. For Belial Machiavelli kept The little fact a secret, and, Though o’er his minor sins she wept, […]...
31. After Us I don’t know if we’re in the beginning Or in the final stage. Tomas Tranströmer Rain is falling through the roof. And all that prospered under the sun, The books that opened in the morning And closed at night, and all day Turned their pages to the light; The sketches of boats and strong forearms […]...
32. Tinuviel The leaves were long, the grass was green, The hemlock-umbels tall and fair, And in the glade a light was seen Of stars in shadow shimmering. Tinuviel was dancing there To music of a pipe unseen, And light of stars was in her hair, And in her raiment glimmering. There Beren came from mountains cold, […]...
33. Sister Jane WHEN Sister Jane, who had produced a child, In prayer and penance all her hours beguiled Her sister-nuns around the lattice pressed; On which the abbess thus her flock addressed: Live like our sister Jane, and bid adieu To worldly cares: have better things in view. YES, they replied, we sage like her shall be, […]...
34. Sonnet 30 (Fire And Ice) My love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolv’d through my so hot desire, But harder grows, the more I her entreat? Or how comes it that my exceeding heat Is not delayed by her heart frozen cold, But that I […]...
35. Jane and Eliza There were two little girls, neither handsome nor plain; One’s name was Eliza, the other’s was Jane: They were both of one height, as I’ve heard people say, They were both of one age, I believe, to a day. ‘Twas fancied by some, who but slightly had seen them, That scarcely a difference was there […]...
36. Sonnet XXX MY loue is lyke to yse, and I to fyre; How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolu’d through my so hot desyre, But harder growes the more I her intreat? Or how comes it that my exceeding heat Is not delayd by her hart frosen cold: But that I […]...
37. Ice and Fire My love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat? Or how comes it that my exceeding heat Is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold, But that I burn […]...
38. Night-Scented Stock White, white in the milky night The moon danced over a tree. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to swim in the lake!” Someone whispered to me. “Oh, do-do-do!” cooed someone else, And clasped her hands to her chin. “I should so love to see the white bodies All the white bodies jump in!” The big dark […]...
39. THE MAD MAID'S SONG Good morrow to the day so fair; Good morning, sir, to you; Good morrow to mine own torn hair, Bedabbled with the dew. Good morning to this primrose too; Good morrow to each maid; That will with flowers the tomb bestrew Wherein my Love is laid. Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me, Alack […]...
40. John Gorham “Tell me what you’re doing over here, John Gorham, Sighing hard and seeming to be sorry when you’re not; Make me laugh or let me go now, for long faces in the moonlight Are a sign for me to say again a word that you forgot.”- “I’m over here to tell you what the moon […]...