Granny

Related poetry:

1. Granny Through every nook and every cranny The wind blew in on poor old Granny Around her knees, into each ear (And up nose as well, I fear) All through the night the wind grew worse It nearly made the vicar curse The top had fallen off the steeple Just missing him (and other people) It […]...
2. The Granny Grey, a Love Tale DAME DOWSON, was a granny grey, Who, three score years and ten, Had pass’d her busy hours away, In talking of the Men! They were her theme, at home, abroad, At wake, and by the winter fire, Whether it froze, or blew, or thaw’d, In sunshine or in shade, her ire Was never calm’d; for […]...
3. Brownie In a corner of the bedroom is a great big curtain, Someone lives behind it, but I don’t know who; I think it is a Brownie, but I’m not quite certain. (Nanny isn’t certain, too.) I looked behind the curtain, but he went so quickly – Brownies never wait to say, “How do you do?” […]...
4. THE BRIDE-CAKE This day, my Julia, thou must make For Mistress Bride the wedding-cake: Knead but the dough, and it will be To paste of almonds turn’d by thee; Or kiss it thou but once or twice, And for the bride-cake there’ll be spice....
5. For K. R. on her Sixtieth Birthday Blow out the candles of your cake. They will not leave you in the dark, Who round with grace this dusky arc Of the grand tour which souls must take. You who have sounded William Blake, And the still pool, to Plato’s mark, Blow out the candles of your cake. They will not leave you […]...
6. Weeds White with daisies and red with sorrel And empty, empty under the sky!- Life is a quest and love a quarrel- Here is a place for me to lie. Daisies spring from damned seeds, And this red fire that here I see Is a worthless crop of crimson weeds, Cursed by farmers thriftily. But here, […]...
7. Christmass Christmass is come and every hearth Makes room to give him welcome now Een want will dry its tears in mirth And crown him wi a holly bough Tho tramping neath a winters sky Oer snow track paths and ryhmey stiles The huswife sets her spining bye And bids him welcome wi her smiles Each […]...
8. Dedicatory Poem For "Underwoods&quot TO her, for I must still regard her As feminine in her degree, Who has been my unkind bombarder Year after year, in grief and glee, Year after year, with oaken tree; And yet betweenwhiles my laudator In terms astonishing to me – To the Right Reverend The Spectator I here, a humble dedicator, Bring […]...
9. The Ballad of the Carpet Bag Ho! Darkies, don’t you hear dose voters cryin’ Pack dat carpet bag! You must get to de Poll, you must get there flyin’; Pack dat carpet bag! You must travel by de road, you must travel by de train, And the things what you’ve done you will have to explain, And the things what you’ve […]...
10. A Singing Lesson Far-fetched and dear-bought, as the proverb rehearses, Is good, or was held so, for ladies: but nought In a song can be good if the turn of the verse is Far-fetched and dear-bought. As the turn of a wave should it sound, and the thought Ring smooth, and as light as the spray that disperses […]...
11. Woak Hill When sycamore leaves wer a-spreaden Green-ruddy in hedges, Bezide the red doust o’ the ridges, A-dried at Woak Hill; I packed up my goods, all a-sheenen Wi’ long years o’ handlen, On dousty red wheels ov a waggon, To ride at Woak Hill. The brown thatchen ruf o’ the dwellen I then wer a-leaven, Had […]...
12. A Bushman's Song I’M travellin’ down the Castlereagh, and I’m a station hand, I’m handy with the ropin’ pole, I’m handy with the brand, And I can ride a rowdy colt, or swing the axe all day, But there’s no demand for a station-hand along the Castlereagh. + So it’s shift, boys, shift, for there isn’t the slightest […]...
13. Villeggiature My window, framed in pear-tree bloom, White-curtained shone, and softly lighted: So, by the pear-tree, to my room Your ghost last night climbed uninvited. Your solid self, long leagues away, Deep in dull books, had hardly missed me; And yet you found this Romeo’s way, And through the blossom climbed and kissed me. I watched […]...
14. My Ancestors A barefoot boy I went to school To save a cobbler’s fee, For though the porridge pot was full A frugal folk were we; We baked our bannocks, spun our wool, And counted each bawbee. We reft our living from the soil, And I was shieling bred; My father’s hands were warped with toil, And […]...
15. Pejar Creek Deep in the meadow grass Easy stand the cattle, Lightly lock the young bulls In a mimic battle, Pride gathers with each shock, Every break and rally – That’s where the Pejar runs, Runs like a slip of silver through the valley. Softly as a thrush sings In the morning hushes, Softly sing the waters […]...
16. The Tragedy Oh, I never felt so wretched, and things never looked so blue Since the days I gulped the physic that my Granny used to brew; For a friend in whom I trusted, entering my room last night, Stole a bottleful of Heenzo from the desk whereon I write. I am certain sure he did it […]...
17. CHRISTEL My senses ofttimes are oppress’d, Oft stagnant is my blood; But when by Christel’s sight I’m blest, I feel my strength renew’d. I see her here, I see her there, And really cannot tell The manner how, the when, the where, The why I love her well. If with the merest glance I view Her […]...
18. The Hollow Men Mistah Kurtz he dead. A penny for the Old Guy I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats’ feet over broken glass In our dry cellar Shape […]...
19. Natural therapy the great thing about the tall white daisy Is that it knows how to laugh at itself Some flowers for all their rich displays Won’t preen themselves without a primness In their sap – nor let their stalks abide Bending this way that way in the thick wind The large daisy is happy to be […]...
20. A Passing Hail Let us rest ourselves a bit! Worry? wave your hand to it Kiss your finger-tips and smile It farewell a little while. Weary of the weary way We have come from Yesterday, Let us fret not, instead, Of the wary way ahead. Let us pause and catch our breath On the hither side of death, […]...
21. Her Losses make our Gains ashamed Her Losses make our Gains ashamed She bore Life’s empty Pack As gallantly as if the East Were swinging at her Back. Life’s empty Pack is heaviest, As every Porter knows In vain to punish Honey It only sweeter grows....
22. Amy Margaret's Five Year Old Amy Margaret’s five years old, Amy Margaret’s hair is gold, Dearer twenty-thousand-fold Than gold, is Amy Margaret. “Amy” is friend, is “Margaret” The pearl for crown or carkanet? Or peeping daisy, summer’s pet? Which are you, Amy Margaret? A friend, a daisy, and a pearl, A kindly, simple, precious girl, Such, howsoe’er the world may […]...
23. Reaping You want to know what’s the matter with me, do yer? My! ain’t men blinder’n moles? It ain’t nothin’ new, be sure o’ that. Why, ef you’d had eyes you’d ha’ seed Me changin’ under your very nose, Each day a little diff’rent. But you never see nothin’, you don’t. Don’t touch me, Jake, Don’t […]...
24. The Ballad Of The Drover Across the stony ridges, Across the rolling plain, Young Harry Dale, the drover, Comes riding home again. And well his stock-horse bears him, And light of heart is he, And stoutly his old pack-horse Is trotting by his knee. Up Queensland way with cattle He travelled regions vast; And many months have vanished Since home-folk […]...
25. The Law of the Jungle (From The Jungle Book) Now this is the Law of the Jungle as old and as true as the sky; And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die. As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back For the strength of […]...
26. LAST SUPPER Botticelli grinned With egg tempera congealed At the hinge of his lips Velasquez licked Shine from an aubergine blackened In the shadows Vermeer picked Pearls from a jar labelled ‘silverskin onions’ Turner stirred Through the steam mist risen Above Venetian chicken soup Monet decorated A blue plate with sliced Cucumber and radishes Gauguin sniffed A […]...
27. I Am Of Ireland ‘I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,’ cried she. ‘Come out of charity, Come dance with me in Ireland.’ One man, one man alone In that outlandish gear, One solitary man Of all that rambled there Had turned his stately head. That is a long way off, And […]...
28. The Hunt The hunt begins at a languid pace Belying hysteria building in place, biding its time To menace the peace in an orchard where mayhem’s Scant held on a leash. Abigail Belle’s the first into line, Although not their leader, her nose to the ground She’s checking for markers down leafy green rows, Round tree studded […]...
29. Screw-Guns Smokin’ my pipe on the mountings, sniffin’ the mornin’ cool, I walks in my old brown gaiters along o’ my old brown mule, With seventy gunners be’ind me, an’ never a beggar forgets It’s only the pick of the Army that handles the dear little pets ‘Tss! ‘Tss! For you all love the screw-guns the […]...
30. Where Be Ye Going, You Devon Maid? Where be ye going, you Devon maid? And what have ye there i’ the basket? Ye tight little fairy, just fresh from the dairy, Will ye give me some cream if I ask it? I love your meads, and I love your flowers, And I love your junkets mainly, But ‘hind the door, I love […]...
31. 13. Song-Bonie Peggy Alison Chor.-And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, And I’ll kiss thee o’er again: And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, My bonie Peggy Alison. ILK care and fear, when thou art near I evermair defy them, O! Young kings upon their hansel throne Are no sae blest as I am, O! And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, […]...
32. Sandpiper The roaring alongside he takes for granted, And that every so often the world is bound to shake. He runs, he runs to the south, finical, awkward, In a state of controlled panic, a student of Blake. The beach hisses like fat. On his left, a sheet Of interrupting water comes and goes And glazes […]...
33. Relativity I looked down on a daisied lawn To where a host of tiny eyes Of snow and gold from velvet shone And made me think of starry skies. I looked up to the vasty night Where stars were very small indeed, And in their galaxy of light They made me think of daised mead. I […]...
34. In A Gondola The moth’s kiss, first! Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure, this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed Its petals up; so, here and there You brush it, till I grow aware Who wants me, and wide open I burst. The bee’s kiss, now! Kiss me as if you […]...
35. The Inventory Of Goodbye I have a pack of letters, I have a pack of memories. I could cut out the eyes of both. I could wear them like a patchwork apron. I could stick them in the washer, the drier, And maybe some of the pain would float off like dirt? Perhaps down the disposal I could grind […]...
36. As a Beam O'er the Face of the Waters May Glow As a beam o’er the face of the waters may glow While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while. One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws Its bleak shade alike o’er our joys […]...
37. TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD Come, sit we under yonder tree, Where merry as the maids we’ll be; And as on primroses we sit, We’ll venture, if we can, at wit; If not, at draw-gloves we will play, So spend some minutes of the day; Or else spin out the thread of sands, Playing at questions and commands: Or tell […]...
38. Testament I GIVE the undertakers permission to haul my body To the graveyard and to lay away all, the head, the Feet, the hands, all: I know there is something left Over they can not put away. Let the nanny goats and the billy goats of the shanty People eat the clover over my grave and […]...
39. Home From Abroad Far-fetched with tales of other worlds and ways, My skin well-oiled with wines of the Levant, I set my face into a filial smile To greet the pale, domestic kiss of Kent. But shall I never learn? That gawky girl, Recalled so primly in my foreign thoughts, Becomes again the green-haired queen of love Whose […]...
40. Runner, The ON a flat road runs the well-train’d runner; He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs; He is thinly clothed-he leans forward as he runs, With lightly closed fists, and arms partially rais’d....