Valentine

Related poetry:

1. Valentine Not a red rose or a satin heart. I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light Like the careful undressing of love. Here. It will blind you with tears Like a lover. It will make your reflection A wobbling photo of grief. I am trying to be […]...
2. Valentine To The Girl In Black In hand I take this pen of mine To write you, sweet, a valentine; I’d take your dainty hand instead, But-you’re a drawing-I am wed- And that is why, you understand, I only take my pen in hand....
3. To Kate. (In Lieu Of A Valentine) Sweet Love and I had oft communed; We were, indeed, great friends, And oft I sought his office, near Where Courtship Alley ends. I used to sit with him, and smoke, And talk of your blue eyes, And argue how I best might act To make your heart my prize. He always seemed to have […]...
4. A Valentine For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes, Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda, Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader. Search narrowly the lines!- they hold a treasure Divine – a talisman – an amulet That must be worn at heart. Search well […]...
5. The Beggar's Valentine Kiss me and comfort my heart Maiden honest and fine. I am the pilgrim boy Lame, but hunting the shrine; Fleeing away from the sweets, Seeking the dust and rain, Sworn to the staff and road, Scorning pleasure and pain; Nevertheless my mouth Would rest like a bird an hour And find in your curls […]...
6. Malade The sick grapes on the chair by the bed lie prone; at the window The tassel of the blind swings gently, tapping the pane, As a little wind comes in. The room is the hollow rind of a fruit, a gourd Scooped out and dry, where a spider, Folded in its legs as in a […]...
7. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER As Julia once a-slumb’ring lay, It chanced a bee did fly that way, After a dew, or dew-like shower, To tipple freely in a flower; For some rich flower, he took the lip Of Julia, and began to sip; But when he felt he suck’d from thence Honey, and in the quintessence, He drank so […]...
8. Jerusalem and redcurrants my jerusalem My newfoundland Juicy as redcurrants With their sweet tang taste My desire My holy requirement Caught in a cleft of mountain Ever clambered towards My yearning My place of the blood-red fruit My want at the first sherd For the full-bosomed bowl My jerusalem My sinewy prayer Where dust and the dry rock […]...
9. A Negro Love Song Seen my lady home las’ night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel’ huh han’ an’ sque’z it tight, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh, Seen a light gleam f’om huh eye, An’ a smile go flittin’ by Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd de win’ blow thoo de pine, Jump […]...
10. Autumn Valentine In May my heart was breaking- Oh, wide the wound, and deep! And bitter it beat at waking, And sore it split in sleep. And when it came November, I sought my heart, and sighed, “Poor thing, do you remember?” “What heart was that?” it cried....
11. My Strawberry O marvel, fruit of fruits, I pause To reckon thee. I ask what cause Set free so much of red from heats At core of earth, and mixed such sweets With sour and spice: what was that strength Which out of darkness, length by length, Spun all thy shining thread of vine, Netting the fields […]...
12. Comparisons CHILD, when they say that others Have been or are like you, Babes fit to be your brothers, Sweet human drops of dew, Bright fruit of mortal mothers, What should one say or do? We know the thought is treason, We feel the dream absurd; A claim rebuked of reason, That withers at a word: […]...
13. Liaison A big bud of moon hangs out of the twilight, Star-spiders spinning their thread Hang high suspended, withouten respite Watching us overhead. Come then under the trees, where the leaf-cloths Curtain us in so dark That here we’re safe from even the ermin-moth’s Flitting remark. Here in this swarthy, secret tent, Where black boughs flap […]...
14. Prelude They say that rhyme and rhythm are Outmoded now. I do not know, for I am far From high of brow. But if the twain you take away, Since basely bred, Proud Poetry, I dare to say, Would scarce be read. With humble heart I thus define My rôle in rhyme: Oh may I never […]...
15. A Blue Valentine (For Aline) Monsignore, Right Reverend Bishop Valentinus, Sometime of Interamna, which is called Ferni, Now of the delightful Court of Heaven, I respectfully salute you, I genuflect And I kiss your episcopal ring. It is not, Monsignore, The fragrant memory of your holy life, Nor that of your shining and joyous martyrdom, Which causes me […]...
16. Paradise Seed Where is the seed Of the tree felled, Of the forest burned, Or living root Under ash and cinders? From woven bud What last leaf strives Into life, last Shrivelled flower? Is fruit of our harvest, Our long labour Dust to the core? To what far, fair land Borne on the wind What winged seed […]...
17. To My Valentine More than a catbird hates a cat, Or a criminal hates a clue, Or the Axis hates the United States, That’s how much I love you. I love you more than a duck can swim, And more than a grapefruit squirts, I love you more than a gin rummy is a bore, And more than […]...
18. MY ONLY VALENTINE Your voice on the telephone Hushes the storm in my heart Lightning strikes twice In the same place. I cannot picture your face No photograph, no keepsake, No letters scented with your smile, No ring or marriage bed. Your kisses were the best I ever had, my first, My only valentine....
19. Rita And The Rifle Between Rita and my eyes There is a rifle And whoever knows Rita Kneels and plays To the divinity in those honey-colored eyes And I kissed Rita When she was young And I remember how she approached And how my arm covered the loveliest of braids And I remember Rita The way a sparrow remembers […]...
20. My Bees: An Allegory “O bees, sweet bees!” I said, “that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles. Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells.” Then, spicy pines the sunny hive to shield, I set, and patient for the autumn’s yield Of sweet I waited. When the village bells Rang frosty clear, and from their satin cells […]...
21. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
22. A Valentine Go, Cupid, and my sweetheart tell I love her well. Yes, though she tramples on my heart And rends that bleeding thing apart; And though she rolls a scornful eye On doting me when I go by; And though she scouts at everything As tribute unto her I bring – Apple, banana, caramel – Haste, […]...
23. A St. Valentine's Day Tragedy Oh! Montmorency Vere de Vere, To think that one I held so dear Should use a base deceiver’s art To trifle with my loving heart. A brand new ten-cent valentine With lace and hearts and verses fine, I sent to show my love for thee And in return you send to me The one I […]...
24. Pickle Belt The fruit rolled by all day. They prayed the cogs would creep; They thought about Saturday pay, And Sunday sleep. Whatever he smelled was good: The fruit and flesh smells mixed. There beside him she stood, And he, perplexed; He, in his shrunken britches, Eyes rimmed with pickle dust, Prickling with all the itches Of […]...
25. About My Poetry I have no silver-saddled horse to ride, No inheritance to live on, Neither riches no real-estate A pot of honey is all I own. A pot of honey red as fire! My honey is my everything. I guard My riches and my real-estate my honey pot, I mean From pests of every species, Brother, just […]...
26. A Valentine Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see Him when he came, but didn’t seem to miss him if he stayed away. And cannot pleasures, while they last, Be actual unless, when past, They leave us shuddering and aghast, With anguish smarting? And cannot friends be firm and fast, […]...
27. Dust in the Eyes If, as they say, some dust thrown in my eyes Will keep my talk from getting overwise, I’m not the one for putting off the proof. Let it be overwhelming, off a roof And round a corner, blizzard snow for dust, And blind me to a standstill if it must....
28. A Valentine's Song MOTLEY I count the only wear That suits, in this mixed world, the truly wise, Who boldly smile upon despair And shake their bells in Grandam Grundy’s eyes. Singers should sing with such a goodly cheer That the bare listening should make strong like wine, At this unruly time of year, The Feast of Valentine. […]...
29. 384. Song-Highland Mary YE banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery! Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie: There Simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last Farewell O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom’d the gay, green birk, How rich […]...
30. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
31. O Blush Not So! O blush not so! O blush not so! Or I shall think you knowing; And if you smile the blushing while, Then maidenheads are going. There’s a blush for want, and a blush for shan’t, And a blush for having done it; There’s a blush for thought, and a blush for nought, And a blush […]...
32. Highland Mary Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, How rich […]...
33. When The Lamp Is Shattered When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead When the cloud is scattered, The rainbow’s glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not; When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart’s […]...
34. Lines WHEN the lamp is shatter’d, The light in the dust lies dead; When the cloud is scatter’d, The rainbow’s glory is shed; When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remember’d not When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart’s […]...
35. Go, Valentine Go, Valentine, and tell that lovely maid Whom fancy still will portray to my sight, How here I linger in this sullen shade, This dreary gloom of dull monastic night; Say, that every joy of life remote At evening’s closing hour I quit the throng, Listening in solitude the ring-dome’s note, Who pours like me […]...
36. To A Valentine Faire Valentine, since once your welcome hand Did cull mee out wrapt in a paper band, Vouchsafe the same hand still, to shew thereby That Fortune did your will no injury: What though a knife I give, your beauty’s charme Will keepe the edge from doing any harme: Wool deads the sternest blade; and will […]...
37. St. Valentine's Day The South is a dream of flowers With a jewel for sky and sea, Rose-crowns for the dancing hours, Gold fruits upon every tree; But cold from the North The wind blows forth That blows my love to me. The stars in the South are gold Like lamps between sky and sea; The flowers that […]...
38. At a Dinner Party With fruit and flowers the board is deckt, The wine and laughter flow; I’ll not complain could one expect So dull a world to know? You look across the fruit and flowers, My glance your glances find. It is our secret, only ours, Since all the world is blind....
39. A Valentine For Hands names, silence-quietest minutes (building like rain or returning like seas) Since they have touched me, your warm hands have sown Gentlest sounds, touches and hours (or, building like rain, turning, like seas) (building like rain, or returning like seas) Ripples and springs-the shiniest rivers- Since they have known me your warm hands have gathered Smallest, […]...
40. In Tall Grass BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull in the tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters. And I ask no better a winding sheet (over the earth and under the sun.) Let the bees go honey-hunting with yellow blur of wings […]...