Lodged
The rain to the wind said,
‘You push and I’ll pelt.’
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.





Related poetry:
- The Wind, One Brilliant Day The wind, one brilliant day, called To my soul with an odor of jasmine. “In return for the odor of […]...
- The Wind Sings Welcome in Early Spring (For Paula)THE GRIP of the ice is gone now. The silvers chase purple. The purples tag silver. They let out […]...
- Winter Heavens Sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive Leap off the rim of earth across the dome. It is […]...
- E Coin Behind Your Ear Before you knew you owned it It was gone, stolen, and you were a fool. How you never felt it […]...
- No Swan So Fine “No water so still as the Dead fountains of Versailles.” No swan, With swart blind look askance And gondoliering legs, […]...
- Graves I dreamed one man stood against a thousand, One man damned as a wrongheaded fool. One year and another he […]...
- A Line-Storm Song The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift. The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, […]...
- Garden-Spot God’s acre was her garden-spot, she said; She sat there often, of the Summer days, Little and slim and sweet, […]...
- Blight Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,- Rough stalks, and from thick stamens A poisonous […]...
- Black Oaks Okay, not one can write a symphony, or a dictionary, Or even a letter to an old friend, full of […]...
- Aubade JANE, Jane, Tall as a crane, The morning light creaks down again; Comb your cockscomb-ragged hair, Jane, Jane, come down […]...
- Winter Song Rain and wind, and wind and rain. Will the Summer come again? Rain on houses, on the street, Wetting all […]...
- A Forsaken Garden IN a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland, At the sea-down’s edge between windward and lee, Walled round […]...
- Rover's Rest By parents I would not be pinned, Nor in my home abide, For I was wanton as the wind And […]...
- A Fine Day After all the rain, the sun Shines on hill and grassy mead; Fly into the garden, child, You are very […]...
- The trees in the garden rained flowers The trees in the garden rained flowers. Children ran there joyously. They gathered the flowers Each to himself. Now there […]...
- I Stood With the Dead I Stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still: When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead. And my […]...
- Michaelangelo Would I might wake in you the whirl-wind soul Of Michelangelo, who hewed the stone And Night and Day revealed, […]...
- The Garden Of Love I went to the Garden of Love. And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the […]...
- The Rain and the Wind The rain and the wind, the wind and the rain They are with us like a disease: They worry the […]...