Another Acrostic ( In the style of Father William )

Related poetry:

1. You Are Old, Father William “You are old, Father william,” the young man said, “And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head Do you think, at your age, it is right? “In my youth,” Father William replied to his son, “I feared it might injure the brain; But now that I’m perfectly sure […]...
2. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
3. Style Flaubert wanted to write a novel About nothing. It was to have no subject And be sustained upon the style alone, Like the Holy Ghost cruising above The abyss, or like the little animals In Disney cartoons who stand upon a branch That breaks, but do not fall Till they look down. He never wrote […]...
4. Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though It is to sigh about uneasy affirmation. I hope when they read me (if they ever do) They rest as easy on my lack of finished form, The hazy, […]...
5. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
6. Acrostic Little maidens, when you look On this little story-book, Reading with attentive eye Its enticing history, Never think that hours of play Are your only HOLIDAY, And that in a HOUSE of joy Lessons serve but to annoy: If in any HOUSE you find Children of a gentle mind, Each the others pleasing ever Each […]...
7. My Father The memory of my father is wrapped up in White paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work. Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits Out of his hat, he drew love from his small body, And the rivers of his hands Overflowed with good deeds....
8. Stanzas Inscribed to Lady William Russell NATURE, to prove her heav’n-taught pow’r, That gems the earth, and paints the flow’r; That bids the soft enchanting note Steal from the LINNET’S downy throat; That from young MAY’S ambrosial wings, The balmy dew of HYBLA flings; With partial hand, each charm combin’d, To deck THY Form, and grace THY Mind. She gave her […]...
9. The Summary History of Sir William Wallace Sir William Wallace of Ellerslie, I’m told he went to the High School in Dundee, For to learn to read and write, And after that he learned to fight, While at the High School in Dundee, The Provost’s son with him disagree, Because Wallace did wear a dirk, He despised him like an ignorant stirk, […]...
10. Acrostic Eliza Hughes E v’ry grace in her combine, L ove and truth and friendship join, I n one source without reserve, Z ealous all her friends to serve, A nd diffuse true harmony. H appy nymph of chaste repose, U nsullied as the vernal rose. G ay majestic yet serene, H andsome, with a graceful mien;E v’ry […]...
11. Elegy For My Father HLF, August 8, 1918-August 22, 1997 “Bequeath us to no earthly shore until Is answered in the vortex of our grave The seal’s wide spindrift gaze towards paradise.” -Hart Crane, “Voyages” “If a lion could talk, we couldn’t understand it” -Ludwig Wittgenstein Under the ocean that stretches out wordlessly Past the long edge of the […]...
12. With Penne, Inke, And Paper To A Distressed Friend Here is paper, pen, and inke, That your heart and seale may sinke Into such markes as may expresse A Soule much blest in heavinesse. May your paper seeme as fayre As yourselfe when you appeare: May the Letters which you write Looke like black eye-lids on white. May your penne such fancies bring As […]...
13. Holy Sonnet XVI: Father, Part Of His Double Interest Father, part of his double interest Unto thy kingdom, thy Son gives to me, His jointure in the knotty Trinity He keeps, and gives to me his death’s conquest. This Lamb, whose death with life the world hath blest, Was from the world’s beginning slain, and he Hath made two Wills which with the Legacy […]...
14. Style STYLE go ahead talking about style. You can tell where a man gets his style just As you can tell where Pavlowa got her legs Or Ty Cobb his batting eye. Go on talking. Only don’t take my style away. It’s my face. Maybe no good But anyway, my face. I talk with it, I […]...
15. The Ballad Of Father Gilligan The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day; For half his flock were in their beds, Or under green sods lay. Once, while he nodded on a chair, At the moth-hour of eve, Another poor man sent for him, And he began to grieve. ‘I have no rest, nor joy, nor peace, For […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. The Child Is Father To The Man ‘The child is father to the man.’ How can he be? The words are wild. Suck any sense from that who can: ‘The child is father to the man.’ No; what the poet did write ran, ‘The man is father to the child.’ ‘The child is father to the man!’ How can he be? The […]...
18. Sonnet On Hearing The Dies Irae Sung In The Sistine Chapel Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring, Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove, Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love Than terrors of red flame and thundering. The hillside vines dear memories of Thee bring: A bird at evening flying to its nest Tells me of One who had no place of […]...
19. Father My father knows the proper way The nation should be run; He tells us children every day Just what should now be done. He knows the way to fix the trusts, He has a simple plan; But if the furnace needs repairs, We have to hire a man. My father, in a day or two […]...
20. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
21. Northern Farmer: New Style Dosn’t thou ‘ear my ‘erse’s legs, as they canters awaäy? Proputty, proputty, proputty that’s what I ‘ears ’em saäy. Proputty, proputty, proputty Sam, thou’s an ass for thy paaïns: Theer’s moor sense i’ one o’ ‘is legs, nor in all thy braaïns. Woä theer’s a craw to pluck wi’ tha, Sam; yon ‘s parson’s ‘ouse […]...
22. Boy and Father THE BOY Alexander understands his father to be a famous lawyer. The leather law books of Alexander’s father fill a room like hay in a barn. Alexander has asked his father to let him build a house like bricklayers build, a house with walls and roofs made of big leather law books. The rain beats […]...
23. My Father's Love Letters On Fridays he’d open a can of Jax After coming home from the mill, & ask me to write a letter to my mother Who sent postcards of desert flowers Taller than men. He would beg, Promising to never beat her Again. Somehow I was happy She had gone, & sometimes wanted To slip in […]...
24. 62. Epistle to William Simson I GAT your letter, winsome Willie; Wi’ gratefu’ heart I thank you brawlie; Tho’ I maun say’t, I wad be silly, And unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin billie Your flatterin strain. But I’se believe ye kindly meant it: I sud be laith to think ye hinted Ironic satire, sidelins sklented On my poor […]...
25. Try To Remember Some Details Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing Of the one you love So that on the day of loss you’ll be able to say: last seen Wearing such-and-such, brown jacket, white hat. Try to remember some details. For they have no face And their soul is hidden and their crying Is the same as […]...
26. Botany Bay Eclogues 03 – Humphrey And William (Time, Noon.) HUMPHREY: See’st thou not William that the scorching Sun By this time half his daily race has run? The savage thrusts his light canoe to shore And hurries homeward with his fishy store. Suppose we leave awhile this stubborn soil To eat our dinner and to rest from toil! WILLIAM: Agreed. Yon tree […]...
27. Ode For Mrs. William Settle In Lake Forest, a suburb of Chicago, A woman sits at her desk to write Me a letter. She holds a photograph Of me up to the light, one taken 17 years ago in a high school class In Providence. She sighs, and the sigh Smells of mouthwash and tobacco. If she were writing by […]...
28. Father and Son Now in the suburbs and the falling light I followed him, and now down sandy road Whitter than bone-dust, through the sweet Curdle of fields, where the plums Dropped with their load of ripeness, one by one. Mile after mile I followed, with skimming feet, After the secret master of my blood, Him, steeped in […]...
29. The Height of the Ridiculous I WROTE some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit, in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came; How kind […]...
30. General William Booth Enters into Heaven [To be sung to the tune of The Blood of the Lamb with indicated instrument] I [Bass drum beaten loudly.] Booth led boldly with his big bass drum (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.” (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) […]...
31. The Dove of Dacca 1892 The freed dove flew to the Rajah’s tower Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings And the thorns have covered the city of Guar. Dove dove oh, homing dove! Little white traitor, with woe on thy wings! The Rajah of Dacca rode under the wall; He set in his bosom a dove of flight […]...
32. A Scrap of Paper “Will you go to war just for a scrap of paper?” Question Of the German Chancellor to the British Ambassador, August 5, 1914. A mocking question! Britain’s answer came Swift as the light and searching as the flame. “Yes, for a scrap of paper we will fight Till our last breath, and God defend the […]...
33. Song To Be Sung by the Father of Infant Female Children My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky; Contrariwise, my blood runs cold When little boys go by. For little boys as little boys, No special hate I carry, But now and then they grow to men, And when they do, they marry. No matter how they tarry, Eventually they marry. […]...
34. Paper Boats Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running Stream. In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of The village where I live. I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and Know who I am. I load my little boats […]...
35. To The Memory Of My Beloved, The Author, Mr William Shakespeare, And What He Hath Left Us To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such As neither Man nor Muse can praise too much. ‘Tis true, and all men’s suffrage. But these ways Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise; For silliest ignorance […]...
36. You and I I explain quietly. You Hear me shouting. You Try a new tack. I Feel old wounds reopen. You see both sides. I See your blinkers. I Am placatory. You Sense a new selfishness. I am a dove. You Recognize the hawk. You Offer an olive branch. I Feel the thorns. You bleed. I See crocodile […]...
37. Winter Landscape The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, through the arrangement of the trees, Past the five figures at the burning straw, Returning cold and silent to their town, Returning to the drifted snow, the rink Lively with children, to the older men, […]...
38. Dove Sta Amore Dove sta amore Where lies love Dove sta amore Here lies love The ring dove love In lyrical delight Hear love’s hillsong Love’s true willsong Love’s low plainsong Too sweet painsong In passages of night Dove sta amore Here lies love The ring dove love Dove sta amore Here lies love...
39. 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 […]...
40. An Olive Fire An olive fire’s a lovely thing; Somehow it makes me think of Spring As in my grate it over-spills With dancing flames like daffodils. They flirt and frolic, twist and twine, The brassy fire-irons wink and shine. . . . Leap gold, you flamelets! Laugh and sing: An olive fire’s a lovely thing. An olive […]...