At Lord's

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet XXIX: Like Some Weak Lords Like some weak lords, neighbor’d by mighty kings, To keep themselves and their chief cities free, Do easily yield, that all their coasts may be Ready to store their camps of needful things: So Stella’s heart finding what power Love brings, To keep itself in life and liberty, Doth willing grant, that in the frontiers […]...
2. On A Cape May Warbler Who Flew Against My Window She’s stopped in her southern tracks Brought haply to this hard knock When she shoots from the tall spruce And snaps her neck on the glass. From the fall grass I gather her And give her to my silent children Who give her a decent burial Under the dogwood in the garden. They lay their […]...
3. A Bunch of Roses Roses ruddy and roses white, What are the joys that my heart discloses? Sitting alone in the fading light Memories come to me here tonight With the wonderful scent of the big red roses. Memories come as the daylight fades Down on the hearth where the firelight dozes; Flicker and flutter the lights and shades, […]...
4. Identification In Belfast (I. R. A. Bombing) The British Army now carries two rifles, One with rubber rabbit-pellets for children, The other’s of course for the Provisionals…. ‘When they first showed me the boy, I thought oh good, It’s not him because he’s blonde- I imagine his hair was singed dark by the bomb. He had nothing on […]...
5. Submergence When along the pavement, Palpitating flames of life, People flicker round me, I forget my bereavement, The gap in the great constellation, The place where a star used to be. Nay, though the pole-star Is blown out like a candle, And all the heavens are wandering in disarray, Yet when pleiads of people are Deployed […]...
6. For M. W There is no transcience of twilight in The beauty of your soft dusk-dimpled face, No flicker of a slender flame in space, In crucibles, fragility crystalline. There is no fragrance of the jessamine About you, no pathos of some old place At dusk, that crumbles like moth-eaten lace Beneath the touch. Nor has there ever […]...
7. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
8. The Merry Maid OH, I am grown so free from care Since my heart broke! I set my throat against the air, I laugh at simple folk! There’s little kind and little fair Is worth its weight in smoke To me, that’s grown so free from care Since my heart broke! Lass, if to sleep you would repair […]...
9. Hooray Say The Roses hooray say the roses, today is blamesday And we are red as blood. Hooray say the roses, today is Wednesday And we bloom wher soldiers fell And lovers too, And the snake at the word. Hooray say the roses, darkness comes All at once, like lights gone out, The sun leaves dark continents And rows […]...
10. Blue Roses Roses red and roses white Plucked I for my love’s delight. She would none of all my posies Bade me gather her blue roses. Half the world I wandered through, Seeking where such flowers grew. Half the world unto my quest Answered me with laugh and jest. Home I came at wintertide, But my silly […]...
11. The Painter on Silk There was a man Who made his living By painting roses Upon silk. He sat in an upper chamber And painted, And the noises of the street Meant nothing to him. When he heard bugles, and fifes, and drums, He thought of red, and yellow, and white roses Bursting in the sunshine, And smiled as […]...
12. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
13. MIGNON – Poet’s art is ever able To endow with truth mere fable. MIGNON. [This universally known poem is also to be found In Wilhelm Meister.] KNOW’ST thou the land where the fair citron blows, Where the bright orange midst the foliage glows, Where soft winds greet us from the azure skies, Where silent myrtles, stately […]...
14. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
15. Asking For Roses A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master, With doors that none but the wind ever closes, Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster; It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses. I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary; ‘I wonder,’ I say, ‘who the owner of those is.’ ‘Oh, […]...
16. Rain Along Shore Wan white mists upon the sea, East wind harping mournfully All the sunken reefs along, Wail and heart-break in its song, But adown the placid bay Fisher-folk keep holiday. All the deeps beyond the bar Call and murmur from afar, ‘Plaining of a mighty woe Where the great ships come and go, But adown the […]...
17. LONDON ROSES “ROWSES, Rowses! Penny a bunch!” they tell you Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you. Roses, roses, red in the Kensington sun, Holland Road, High Street, Bayswater, see you and smell you Roses of London town, red till the summer is done. Roses, roses, locust and lilac, perfuming West End, East End, wondrously budding […]...
18. Throw Roses THROW roses on the sea where the dead went down. The roses speak to the sea, And the sea to the dead. Throw roses, O lovers- Let the leaves wash on the salt in the sun....
19. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
20. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
21. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
22. Epitaph Heap not on this mound Roses that she loved so well: Why bewilder her with roses, That she cannot see or smell? She is happy where she lies With the dust upon her eyes....
23. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
24. May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
25. Testimony Regarding a Ghost THE ROSES slanted crimson sobs On the night sky hair of the women, And the long light-fingered men Spoke to the dark-haired women, “Nothing lovelier, nothing lovelier.” How could he sit there among us all Guzzling blood into his guts, Goblets, mugs, buckets- Leaning, toppling, laughing With a slobber on his mouth, A smear of […]...
26. Innocence The height of wisdom seems to me That of a child; So let my ageing vision be Serene and mild. The depth of folly, I aver, Is to fish deep In that dark pool of science where Truth-demons sleep. Let me not be a bearded sage Seeing too clear; In issues of the atom age […]...
27. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
28. A Pict Song Rome never looks where she treads. Always her heavy hooves fall On our stomachs, our hearts or our heads; And Rome never heeds when we bawl. Her sentries pass on that is all, And we gather behind them in hordes, And plot to reconquer the Wall, With only our tongues for our swords. We are […]...
29. Roses (For Katherine Bregy) I went to gather roses and twine them in a ring, For I would make a posy, a posy for the King. I got an hundred roses, the loveliest there be, From the white rose vine and the pink rose bush and from the red Rose tree. But when I took my […]...
30. Poem (Faithful to your commands, o consciousness) Poem Faithful to your commands, o consciousness, o Beating wings, I studied The roses and the muses of reality, The deceptions and the deceptive elation of the redness of the growing morning, And all the greened and thomed variety of the vines of error, which begin by promising Everything and more than everything, and then […]...
31. The Elves Elves are no smaller Than men, and walk As men do, in this world, But with more grace than most, And are not immortal. Their beauty sets them aside From other men and from women Unless a woman has that cold fire in her Called poet: with that She may see them and by its […]...
32. The Good Man The good man. He is still enhancer, renouncer. In the time of detachment, In the time of the vivid heather and affectionate evil, In the time of oral Grave grave legalities of hate – all real Walks our prime registered reproach and seal. Our successful moral. The good man. Watches our bogus roses, our rank […]...
33. The Potatoes' Dance (A Poem Game.) I “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “I saw a ball last night, In honor of a lady, In honor of a lady, In honor of a lady, Whose wings were pearly-white. The breath of bitter weather, The breath of bitter weather, The […]...
34. Bacchanalia The evening comes, the fields are still. The tinkle of the thirsty rill, Unheard all day, ascends again; Deserted is the half-mown plain, Silent the swaths! the ringing wain, The mower’s cry, the dog’s alarms, All housed within the sleeping farms! The business of the day is done, The last-left haymaker is gone. And from […]...
35. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
36. Roses You love the roses – so do I. I wish The sky would rain down roses, as they rain From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valley would be pink and white And soft to tread on. They would fall as light As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be […]...
37. A Door just opened on a street A Door just opened on a street I lost was passing by An instant’s Width of Warmth disclosed And Wealth and Company. The Door as instant shut And I I lost was passing by Lost doubly but by contrast most Informing misery...
38. Bric-a-Brac Little things that no one needs Little things to joke about Little landscapes, done in beads. Little morals, woven out, Little wreaths of gilded grass, Little brigs of whittled oak Bottled painfully in glass; These are made by lonely folk. Lonely folk have lines of days Long and faltering and thin; Therefore little wax bouquets, […]...
39. HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED My soul would one day go and seek For roses, and in Julia’s cheek A richess of those sweets she found, As in another Rosamond; But gathering roses as she was, Not knowing what would come to pass, It chanced a ringlet of her hair Caught my poor soul, as in a snare; Which ever […]...
40. Flames Smokey the Bear heads Into the autumn woods With a red can of gasoline And a box of wooden matches. His ranger’s hat is cocked At a disturbing angle. His brown fur gleams Under the high sun As his paws, the size Of catcher’s mitts, Crackle into the distance. He is sick of dispensing Warnings […]...