The Sash

Related poetry:

1. Thomas Ross, Jr This I saw with my own eyes: A cliff-swallow Made her nest in a hole of the high clay-bank There near Miller’s Ford. But no sooner were the young hatched Than a snake crawled up to the nest To devour the brood. Then the mother swallow with swift flutterings And shrill cries Fought at the […]...
2. The Old Arm-chair I LOVE it, I love it ; and who shall dare To chide me for loving that old Arm-chair? I’ve treasured it long as a sainted prize ; I’ve bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs. ‘ Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart ; Not a tie will break, not […]...
3. Victory The schools marched in procession in happiness and pride, The city bands before them, the soldiers marched beside; Oh, starched white frocks and sashes and suits that high schools wear, The boy scout and the boy lout and all the rest were there, And all flags save Australia’s flag waved high in sun and air! […]...
4. Crabapple Blossoms SOMEBODY’S little girl-how easy to make a sob story over who she was once and who she is now. Somebody’s little girl-she played once under a crab-apple tree in June and the blossoms fell on the dark hair. It was somewhere on the Erie line and the town was Salamanca or Painted Post or Horse’s […]...
5. The Black Monkey My Babbles has a nasty knack Of keeping monkeys on her back. A great big black one comes and swings Right on her sash or pinny strings. It is a horrid thing and wild And makes her such a naughty child. She comes and stands beside my chair With almost an offended air And says: […]...
6. Red Roses Tommy is three and when he’s bad His mother dances with him. She puts on the record, “Red Roses for a Blue Lady” And throws him across the room. Mind you, She never laid a hand on him. He gets red roses in different places, The head, that time he was as sleepy as a […]...
7. A Nativity 1914-18 The Babe was laid in the Manger Between the gentle kine All safe from cold and danger “But it was not so with mine, (With mine! With mine!) “Is it well with the child, is it well?” The waiting mother prayed. “For I know not how he fell, And I know not where he […]...
8. The Borders To say that she came into me, From another world, is not true. Nothing comes into the universe And nothing leaves it. My mother-I mean my daughter did not Enter me. She began to exist Inside me-she appeared within me. And my mother did not enter me. When she lay down, to pray, on me, […]...
9. A Game of Fives Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One: Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun. Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six: Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks. Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven: Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven! Five winsome girls, […]...
10. Mother o' Mine If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother […]...
11. No Lilies For Lisette Said the Door: “She came in With no shadow of sin; Turned the key in the lock, Slipped out of her frock, The robe she liked best When for supper she dressed. Then a letter she tore. . . What a wan look she wore!” Said the Door. Said the Chair: “She sat down With […]...
12. Child In Red Sometimes she walks through the village in her little red dress All absorbed in restraining herself, And yet, despite herself, she seems to move According to the rhythm of her life to come. She runs a bit, hesitates, stops, Half-turns around… And, all while dreaming, shakes her head For or against. Then she dances a […]...
13. Blue dress i can see through the blue Dress when you stand In the doorway – the light Come indoors softly like A cat between your legs When you walk and The dress flows Over the curved pebble Of your belly into The blue pool my eye Is already there Waiting for the ripple I have the […]...
14. Conversation We smile at each other And I lean back against the wicker couch. How does it feel to be dead? I say. You touch my knees with your blue fingers. And when you open your mouth, A ball of yellow light falls to the floor And burns a hole through it. Don’t tell me, I […]...
15. Gacela of Unforseen Love No one understood the perfume Of the dark magnolia of your womb. Nobody knew that you tormented A hummingbird of love between your teeth. A thousand Persian little horses fell asleep In the plaza with moon of your forehead, While through four nights I embraced Your waist, enemy of the snow. Between plaster and jasmins, […]...
16. The Oldest Drama “It fell on a day, that he went out to his father to the reapers. And he said unto his father, My head, my head. And he said to a lad, Carry him to his mother. And. . . he sat on her knees till noon, And then died. And she went up, and laid […]...
17. Disobedience James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree Took great Care of his Mother, Though he was only three. James James Said to his Mother, “Mother,” he said, said he; “You must never go down To the end of the town, If you don’t go down with me.” James James Morrison’s Mother Put on a golden […]...
18. My Mother's Body 1. The dark socket of the year The pit, the cave where the sun lies down And threatens never to rise, When despair descends softly as the snow Covering all paths and choking roads: Then hawkfaced pain seized you Threw you so you fell with a sharp Cry, a knife tearing a bolt of silk. […]...
19. The Routine Things Around The House When Mother died I thought: now I’ll have a death poem. That was unforgivable. Yet I’ve since forgiven myself As sons are able to do Who’ve been loved by their mothers. I stared into the coffin Knowing how long she’d live, How many lifetimes there are In the sweet revisions of memory. It’s hard to […]...
20. TO DIANEME I could but see thee yesterday Stung by a fretful bee; And I the javelin suck’d away, And heal’d the wound in thee. A thousand thorns, and briars, and stings I have in my poor breast; Yet ne’er can see that salve which brings My passions any rest. As Love shall help me, I admire […]...
21. To My Mother Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of “Mother,” Therefore by that dear name I long have called you- You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death […]...
22. My Rocking-Chair When I am old and worse for wear I want to buy a rocking-chair, And set it on a porch where shine The stars of morning-glory vine; With just beyond, a gleam of grass, A shady street where people pass; And some who come with time to spare, To yarn beside my rocking-chair. Then I […]...
23. Dream Barker We met for supper in your flat-bottomed boat. I got there first: in a white dress: I remember Wondering if you’d come. Then you shot over the bank, A Virgilian Nigger Jim, and poled us off To a little sea-food barker’s cave you knew. What’ll you have? you said. Eels hung down, Bamboozled claws hung […]...
24. Sweet is the swamp with its secrets Sweet is the swamp with its secrets, Until we meet a snake; ‘Tis then we sigh for houses, And our departure take At that enthralling gallop That only childhood knows. A snake is summer’s treason, And guile is where it goes....
25. Sonnet 120: That you were once unkind befriends me now That you were once unkind befriends me now, And for that sorrow, which I then did feel, Needs must I under my transgression bow, Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel. For if you were by my unkindness shaken As I by yours, y’have passed a hell of time, And I, a tyrant, have […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. Crucifix Do not cry for me, Mother, seeing me in the grave. I This greatest hour was hallowed and thandered By angel’s choirs; fire melted sky. He asked his Father:”Why am I abandoned…?” And told his Mother: “Mother, do not cry…” II Magdalena struggled, cried and moaned. Peter sank into the stone trance… Only there, where […]...
28. The Fury Of Jewels And Coal Many a miner has gone Into the deep pit To receive the dust of a kiss, An ore-cell. He has gone with his lamp Full of mole eyes Deep deep and has brought forth Jesus at Gethsemane. Body of moss, body of glass, Body of peat, how sharp You lie, emerald as heavy As a […]...
29. The Forsaken Holy Mother of God, Merciful Mary. Hear Me! I am very weary. I have come From a village miles away, all day I have been coming, and I ache For such Far roaming. I cannot walk as light as I used, and my Thoughts grow confused. I am heavier than I was. Mary Mother, you […]...
30. Burning the Doll I am the girl who burned her doll, Who gave her father the doll to burn ” The bride doll I had been given At six, as a Christmas gift, By the same great uncle who once introduced me At my blind second cousin’s wedding To a man who winced, A future Miss America, I’m […]...
31. My Dentist Sitting in the dentist’s chair, Wishing that I wasn’t there, To forget and pass the time I have made this bit of rhyme. I had a rendez-vous at ten; I rushed to get in line, But found a lot of dames and men Had waited there since nine; I stared at them, then in an […]...
32. DECLARATION OF WAR OH, would I resembled The country girls fair, Who rosy-red ribbons And yellow hats wear! To believe I was pretty I thought was allow’d; In the town I believed it When by the youth vow’d. Now that Spring hath return’d, All my joys disappear; The girls of the country Have lured him from here. To […]...
33. The Having To Love Something Else There was a man who would marry his mother, and asked his Father for his mother’s hand in marriage, and was told he could Not marry his mother’s hand because it was attached to all The rest of mother, which was all married to his father; that He’d have to love something else. . . […]...
34. First We Take Manhattan They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom For trying to change the system from within I’m coming now, I’m coming to reward them First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin. I’m guided by a signal in the heavens I’m guided by this birthmark on my skin I’m guided by the beauty of our […]...
35. When The Sun Come After Rain WHEN the sun comes after rain And the bird is in the blue, The girls go down the lane Two by two. When the sun comes after shadow And the singing of the showers, The girls go up the meadow, Fair as flowers. When the eve comes dusky red And the moon succeeds the sun, […]...
36. From Tsigan: The Gypsy Poem In Warsaw, blackbird girls Swoop down in flocks The old town square A swirl of dark-eyed dark-haired girls In brilliant skirts who circle Laughing at my waist Throw up their arms To beg for sweets Who know among the tourists Whom to choose (how do they know?) So being chosen, being glad In any language […]...
37. Sorrow Sorrow like a ceaseless rain Beats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain,- Dawn will find them still again; This has neither wax nor wane, Neither stop nor start. People dress and go to town; I sit in my chair. All my thoughts are slow and brown: Standing up or sitting down Little […]...
38. The Sightseers My father and mother, my brother and sister And I, with uncle Pat, our dour best-loved uncle, Had set out that Sunday afternoon in July In his broken-down Ford Not to visit some graveyard-one died of shingles, One of fever, another’s knees turned to jelly- But the brand-new roundabout at Ballygawley, The first in mid-Ulster. […]...
39. Archibald's Example Old Archibald, in his eternal chair, Where trespassers, whatever their degree, Were soon frowned out again, was looking off Across the clover when he said to me: “My green hill yonder, where the sun goes down Without a scratch, was once inhabited By trees that injured him-an evil trash That made a cage, and held […]...
40. The Interpreter Mother of Light, and the Gods! Mother of Music, awake! Silence and speech are at odds; Heaven and Hell are at Stake. By the Rose and the Cross I conjure; I constrain by the Snake and the Sword; I am he that is sworn to endure – Bring us the word of the Lord! By […]...