Wet-weather Talk

Related poetry:

1. 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, […]...
2. Sorley's Weather When outside the icy rain Comes leaping helter-skelter, Shall I tie my restive brain Snugly under shelter? Shall I make a gentle song Here in my firelit study, When outside the winds blow strong And the lanes are muddy? With old wine and drowsy meats Am I to fill my belly? Shall I glutton here […]...
3. A Process In The Weather Of The Heart A process in the weather of the heart Turns damp to dry; the golden shot Storms in the freezing tomb. A weather in the quarter of the veins Turns night to day; blood in their suns Lights up the living worm. A process in the eye forwarns The bones of blindness; and the womb Drives […]...
4. Dream Song 8: The weather was fine. They took away his teeth The weather was fine. They took away his teeth, White & helpful; bothered his backhand; Halved his green hair. They blew out his loves, his interests. ‘Underneath,’ (they called in iron voices) ‘understand, Is nothing. So there.’ The weather was very fine. They lifted off His covers till he showed, and cringed & pled To […]...
5. October's Bright Blue Weather O suns and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October’s bright blue weather; When loud the bumblebee makes haste, Belated, thriftless vagrant, And goldenrod is dying fast, And lanes with grapes are fragrant; When gentians roll their fingers tight To save them for the morning, […]...
6. Corn Hut Talk WRITE your wishes on the door and come in. Stand outside in the pools of the harvest moon. Bring in the handshake of the pumpkins. There’s a wish for every hazel nut? There’s a hope for every corn shock? There’s a kiss for every clumsy climbing shadow? Clover and the bumblebees once, High winds and […]...
7. Prayer In Bad Weather by God, I don’t know what to Do. They’re so nice to have around. They have a way of playing with The balls And looking at the cock very Seriously Turning it Tweeking it Examining each part As their long hair falls on Your belly. It’s not the fucking and sucking Alone that reaches into […]...
8. Sudden Fine Weather Reader! what soul that laoves a verse can see The spring return, nor glow like you and me? Hear the quick birds, and see the landscape fill, Nor long to utter his melodious will? This more than ever leaps into the veins, When spring has been delay’d by winds and rains, And coming with a […]...
9. Modern Love XXIII: 'Tis Christmas Weather ‘Tis Christmas weather, and a country house Receives us: rooms are full: we can but get An attic-crib. Such lovers will not fret At that, it is half-said. The great carouse Knocks hard upon the midnight’s hollow door, But when I knock at hers, I see the pit. Why did I come here in that […]...
10. From "THE TALK OF FLOWERS&quot I do not know, whether the sun Accomplished it, The rain or wind – But I was missing so The whiteness and the snow. I listened to the rustling Of spring rain, Washing the reddish buds Of chestnut-trees, – And a tiny spring ran down Into the valley from the hill – And I was […]...
11. Talk to me of love Talk to me of love with wonder in your eyes, Of limber magic flying through the veiling air And soft-edged silks trailing in a vintage plume, The bloom of fragrant lavender intimate in your hair – and I will recline there in the sweetest ease. Talk to me of love in honeyed tones, in whispered […]...
12. 218. Song-Talk of him that's Far Awa MUSING on the roaring ocean, Which divides my love and me; Wearying heav’n in warm devotion, For his weal where’er he be. Hope and Fear’s alternate billow Yielding late to Nature’s law, Whispering spirits round my pillow, Talk of him that’s far awa. Ye whom sorrow never wounded, Ye who never shed a tear, Care-untroubled, […]...
13. Café Talk ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘we cannot hope to find What we are looking for in anyone; They glitter, maybe, but are not the sun, This pebble here, that bit of apple rind. Still, it’s the Alpine sun that makes them burn, And what we’re looking for, some indirect Glint of itself each of us may […]...
14. February 23 Light rain is falling in Central Park But not on Upper Fifth Avenue or Central Park West Where sun and sky are yellow and blue Winds are gusting on Washington Square Through the arches and on to LaGuardia Place But calm is the corner of 8th Street and Second Avenue Which reminds me of something […]...
15. Aspens All day and night, save winter, every weather, Above the inn, the smithy and the shop, The aspens at the cross-roads talk together Of rain, until their last leaves fall from the top. Out of the blacksmith’s cavern comes the ringing Of hammer, shoe and anvil; out of the inn The clink, the hum, the […]...
16. For you secular needs Somebody please explain, can you help Me understand; I’ve watched the weather Radar creep its colours on the screen And watched out of the window for the band Of welcome rain. One tells me its raining, The other looks unchanged. Are these events connected, are they Truly one and same? What should I watch For […]...
17. Myself can read the Telegrams Myself can read the Telegrams A Letter chief to me The Stock’s advance and Retrograde And what the Markets say The Weather how the Rains In Counties have begun. ‘Tis News as null as nothing, But sweeter so than none....
18. Rain Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me Remembering again that I shall die And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks For washing me cleaner than I have been Since I was born into this solitude. Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: […]...
19. Weather Once I dipt into the future far as human eye could see, And I saw the Chief Forecaster, dead as any one can be Dead and damned and shut in Hades as a liar from his birth, With a record of unreason seldome paralleled on earth. While I looked he reared him solemnly, that incandescent […]...
20. Fair Weather This level reach of blue is not my sea; Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun, Whose quiet ripples meet obediently A marked and measured line, one after one. This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm. I have a need of wilder, crueler waves; They sicken […]...
21. Chicago Weather To-day, fair Thisbe, winsome girl! Strays o’er the meads where daisies blow, Or, ling’ring where the brooklets purl, Laves in the cool, refreshing flow. To-morrow, Thisbe, with a host Of amorous suitors in her train, Comes like a goddess forth to coast Or skate upon the frozen main. To-day, sweet posies mark her track, While […]...
22. Fable The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter, “little prig”: Bun replied, You are doubtless very big, But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together To make up a year, And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I’m […]...
23. October Books litter the bed, Leaves the lawn. It Lightly rains. Fall has Come: unpatterned, in The shedding leaves. The maples ripen. Apples Come home crisp in bags. This pear tastes good. It rains lightly on the Random leaf patterns. The nimbus is spread Above our island. Rain Lightly patters on un- Shed leaves. The books […]...
24. Talk Tobacco smoke drifts up to the dim ceiling From half a dozen pipes and cigarettes, Curling in endless shapes, in blue rings wheeling, As formless as our talk. Phil, drawling, bets Cornell will win the relay in a walk, While Bob and Mac discuss the Giants’ chances; Deep in a morris-chair, Bill scowls at “Falk”, […]...
25. Don't talk to me of War Don’t talk to me of War or stalk the ground Our fabled soldiers died upon, I’m sound Of limb and strong of will, my mind as clear As when we learnt those gory lessons founded By our forebears; I’m whole still, my sanity intact, Wife and sanguine life extant despite The wrack of loyal Service, […]...
26. A Time to Talk When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don’t stand still and look around On all the hills I haven’t hoed, And shout from where I am, ‘What is it?’ No, not as there is a time talk. I thrust my hoe in the mellow […]...
27. Grown-Up Talk Half-Past-Six and I were talking In a very grown-up way; We had got so tired with running That we did not want to play. “How do babies come, I wonder,” He said, looking at the sky, “Does God mix the things together An’ just make it-like a pie?” I was really not quite certain, But […]...
28. High Talk Processions that lack high stilts have nothing that catches the eye. What if my great-granddad had a pair that were twenty foot high, And mine were but fifteen foot, no modern Stalks upon higher, Some rogue of the world stole them to patch up a fence or a fire. Because piebald ponies, led bears, caged […]...
29. Ears In The Turrets Hear Ears in the turrets hear Hands grumble on the door, Eyes in the gables see The fingers at the locks. Shall I unbolt or stay Alone till the day I die Unseen by stranger-eyes In this white house? Hands, hold you poison or grapes? Beyond this island bound By a thin sea of flesh And […]...
30. Talk with prudence to a Beggar Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines! Cautious, hint to any Captive You have passed enfranchised feet! Anecdotes of air in Dungeons Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!...
31. I've heard an Organ talk, sometimes I’ve heard an Organ talk, sometimes In a Cathedral Aisle, And understood no word it said Yet held my breath, the while And risen up and gone away, A more Berdardine Girl Yet know not what was done to me In that old Chapel Aisle....
32. They talk as slow as Legends grow They talk as slow as Legends grow No mushroom is their mind But foliage of sterility Too stolid for the wind They laugh as wise as Plots of Wit Predestined to unfold The point with bland prevision Portentously untold....
33. Talk not to me of Summer Trees Talk not to me of Summer Trees The foliage of the mind A Tabernacle is for Birds Of no corporeal kind And winds do go that way at noon To their Ethereal Homes Whose Bugles call the least of us To undepicted Realms...
34. Prayer You talk o’ prayer an’ such – Well, I jest don’t know how; I guess I got as much Religion as a cow. I fight an’ drink an’ swear; Red hell I often raise, But never said a prayer In all my days. I’m honest, right enough; Don’t take no stock in crimes; I’m jest […]...
35. Greek Love-Talk What I have already learned as a lover, I see you, beloved, learning angrily; Then for you it distantly departed, Now your destiny stands in all the stars. Over your breasts we will together contend: Since as glowingly shining they’ve ripened, So also your hands desire to touch them And their own pleasure superintend....
36. On why it is necessary to talk kindly to frogs i met a frog in my garden today Lurking under a stone – it said There used to be a pond here I know i said i had to dig it up Pity said the frog and looked at me As if i was the thickest mortal A garden without water it croaked Is worse […]...
37. Every Silent Plant in the Garden (To: S. W.) Every silent plant in the garden knows Two sorts of wishes make up the world: One is conceived in heaven, the other in hell The earth buttoned its lip, too humble to tell With regard to intent, millionaires are all Yet about prayers, most of us ignorant children Undiscerning of whatever come […]...
38. Sonnets 01: We Talk Of Taxes, And I Call You Friend We talk of taxes, and I call you friend; Well, such you are,-but well enough we know How thick about us root, how rankly grow Those subtle weeds no man has need to tend, That flourish through neglect, and soon must send Perfume too sweet upon us and overthrow Our steady senses; how such matters […]...
39. To Ladies' Eyes To Ladies’ eyes a round, boy, We can’t refuse, we can’t refuse; Though bright eyes so abound, boy, ‘Tis hard to choose, ’tis hard to choose. For thick as stars that lighten Yon airy bowers, yon airy bowers, The countless eyes that brighten This earth of ours, this earth of ours. But fill the cup […]...
40. May and the Poets There is May in books forever; May will part from Spenser never; May’s in Milton, May’s in Prior, May’s in Chaucer, Thomson, Dyer; May’s in all the Italian books: She has old and modern nooks, Where she sleeps with nymphs and elves, In happy places they call shelves, And will rise and dress your rooms […]...