All Poems
/ page 2560 of 3210 /In Romney Marsh
© John Davidson
As I went down to Dymchurch Wall,
I heard the South sing o'er the land
I saw the yellow sunlight fall
On knolls where Norman churches stand.
I Mark Your Courage
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I had no profound feelings of shock or surprise
to those matter-of-fact revelations
which spelled the end of this chapter of your life.
It was, as you put it, too late for recriminations,
and the horrendous realities could be no worse
for having faced them.
Climatic Sorcery
© James Whitcomb Riley
When frost's all on our winder, an' the snow's
All out-o'-doors, our "Old-Kriss"-milkman goes
A-drivin' round, ist purt'-nigh froze to death,
With his old white mustache froze full o' breath.
I love you in the morning
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I love you in the morning and at the setting of the sun
And in the hours of darkness before the day's begun
And in my waking solitude to greet the break of dawn
I grant you sleep that extra hour, although you sleep alone.
The Sentry
© Wilfred Owen
We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew,
And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell
I cannot let the moment pass
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I cannot let the moment pass without a weary greeting,
or retard the recent past where shadows still are fleeting,
Id sabotage the future by just staring in a mirror
and never let the glimmer pass and try to hold my image fast
Piano by Patrick Phillips: American Life in Poetry #173 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Poets are especially good at investing objects with meaning, or in drawing meaning from the things of this world. Here Patrick Phillips of Brooklyn, New York, does a masterful job of comparing a wrecked piano to his feelings.
Piano
Touched by your goodness, I am like
that grand piano we found one night on Willoughby
that someone had smashed and somehow
heaved through an open window.
Hostel Beach, Oneroa
© Ivan Donn Carswell
The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach,
if the tide was out youd reach a tiny bay beyond
the cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete
for blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood;
A Prayer unto Christ
© Michael Wigglesworth
The Judge Of The World
O Dearest Dread, most glorious King,
Hoping With Care
© Ivan Donn Carswell
We are honored and humble and earnest to share
in events which would happen
although we werent there, a trifling thing
as it were we are sure but amazing
Bluebeard: Sonnet VI
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
Hidden dangers
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Which things excited you the most when you were young,
can you recall the pleasures they would bring? Indulge
yourself, dispose your mind of daily care and take
the plunge but beware, theres hidden dangers here.
The Nativity
© William Cowper
Upon my meanness, poverty, and guilt,
The trophy of thy glory shall be built;
My selfdisdain shall be the unshaken base,
And my deformity its fairest grace;
For destitute of good, and rich in ill,
Must be my state and my description still.
Her gentle hands
© Ivan Donn Carswell
She sighed and sighed and signified
repleteness of her solo ride, she kissed
his salty tear-filled eyes and said her name.
Song. "Low hung the dark clouds"
© Amelia Opie
LOW hung the dark clouds on Plinlimmon's tall peak,
And slowly, yet surely, the winter drew near;
When Ellen, sweet Ellen, a tear on her cheek,
Exclaimed as we parted, "In May I'll be here."
Having each of you as friends
© Ivan Donn Carswell
For more than 40 years weve been good friends,
since 1963 in fact, from college where we met
(and managed there to build a strong quartet
of campus friendship which kept those years intact,
The Mountain Heart's-Ease
© Francis Bret Harte
By scattered rocks and turbid waters shifting,
By furrowed glade and dell,
To feverish men thy calm, sweet face uplifting,
Thou stayest them to tell
Haircut today
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I am having a haircut today, it is not
a complex event requiring excellent
foresight, careful planning or indecent
logistical arrangement; not to my way
Prince Yousuf And The Alcayde
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
A Moorish Ballad
IN Grenada reigned Mohammed,
Sixth who bore the name was he;
But the rightful king, Prince Yousuf,
Growing Apart
© Ivan Donn Carswell
We knew their names
or thought we did, we knew their faces
from an album of places wed played
in a fabulous lifetime of childhood shared.