Poems begining by A
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At Briggflatts Meetinghouse
© Basil Bunting
Boasts time mocks cumber Rome. Wren
set up his own monument.
Others watch fells dwindle, think
the sun's fires sink.
Another Acrostic ( In the style of Father William )
© Lewis Carroll
"Pack it up in brown paper!" the old man cried,
"And seal it with olive-and-dove.
"I command you to do it!" he added with pride,
"Nor forget, my good fellow to send her beside
"Easter Greetings, and give her my love."
An Instance Of Dyspepsia
© Eli Siegel
I
There is a man of fifty-four years;
He has dyspepsia, it appears;
He chooses his food carefully,
"An Address to Miss Phillis Wheatly
© Jupiter Hammon
O, come you pious youth: adore
The wisdom of thy God.
In bringing thee from distant shore,
To learn His holy word.
A Maiden To Her Mirror
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
He said he loved me! Then he called my hair
Silk threads wherewith sly Cupid strings his bow,
My cheek a rose leaf fallen on new snow;
And swore my round, full throat would bring despair
To Venus or to Psyche.
A Married Coquette
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Sit still, I say, and dispense with heroics!
I hurt your wrists? Well, you have hurt me.
Aux Enfants Perdus
© Theodore de Banville
Sad eyes! the blue sea laughs as heretofore.
Ah, singing birds, your happy music pour;
Ah, poets, leave the sordid earth awhile;
Flit to these ancient gods we still adore:
"It may be we shall touch the happy isle."
A Single Hound
© William Henry Ogilvie
When the opal lights in the West had died
And night was wrapping the red ferns round,
As I came home by the woodland side
I heard the cry of a single hound.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The poets, every one, have sung of passion.
But which has sung of friendship, man with man?
Love seeks its price, but friendship has a fashion
Larger to give, and of less selfish plan.
Ascension
© John Donne
Salute the last and everlasting day,
Joy at th' uprising of this Sun, and Son,
A Day Of Sunshine. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Second)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O gift of God! O perfect day:
Whereon shall no man work, but play;
Whereon it is enough for me,
Not to be doing, but to be!
A Family Row
© Edgar Albert Guest
I freely confess there are good friends of mine,
With whom we are often invited to dine,
Autumn Fears
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The weary, dreary, dripping rain,
From morn till night, from night till morn,
A Blessing
© John Hay
When I look on thee and feel how dear,
How pure, and how fair thou art,
Into my eyes there steals a tear,
And a shadow mingled of love and fear
Creeps slowly over my heart.
A Yellow Leaf by Alberto Rios: American Life in Poetry #40 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Arizonan Alberto Rios probably observed this shamel ash often, its year-round green leaves never changing. On this particular day, however, he recognizes a difference—a yellow leaf. In doing so he offers us a glimpse of how something small yet unexpected may stay with us, perhaps even become a secret pleasure.
A Yellow Leaf
Adventure of a Poet
© Robert Fuller Murray
As I was walking down the street
A week ago,
Near Henderson's I chanced to meet
A man I know.
Anonymous Plays:XVI - Arden of Feversham
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
MOTHER whose womb brought forth our man of men,
Mother of Shakespeare, whom all time acclaims
A Railroad Eclogue
© Walter Savage Landor
Son: May-be: I had no business with a train.
"Go thee by rail," you told me; "by the rail
At Defford" . . and didst make a fool of me.
An Inscription For Dog River
© Kenneth Slessor
OUR general was the greatest and bravest of generals.
For his deeds, look around you on this coast
Here is his name cut next to Ashur-Bani-Pal's,
Nebuchadnezzar's and the Roman host;
At Columbine's Grave
© Bliss William Carman
AH, Pierrot,
Where is thy Columbine?
What vandal could untwine
That gay rose-rope of thine,
And spill thy joy like wine,
Poor Pierrot?
