Poems begining by A
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As Winds That Blow Against A Star
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Aline)Now by what whim of wanton chance
Do radiant eyes know sombre days?
And feet that shod in light should dance
Walk weary and laborious ways?
Alarm Clocks
© Joyce Kilmer
When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farm
Across green fields and yellow hills of hay
The little twittering birds laugh in his way
And poise triumphant on his shining arm.
A Cry In The World
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Kine, kine, in the meadows, why do you low so piteously?
High is the grass to your knees and wet with the dew of the morn,
A Vision Of Folly
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I saw one rushing madly in pursuit
Of Liberty. With frenzied steps he strode.
Old laws and customs with disdainful foot
He spurned beneath him in a mire of blood.
A Gustatory Achievement
© James Whitcomb Riley
Canned _black_ burry-pie an' _goose_
Burry, squshin'-full o' juice;
An' _roz_burry--yes, an' plum--
Yes, an' _churry_-pie--_um-yum_!
A Blue Valentine
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Aline)Monsignore,
Right Reverend Bishop Valentinus,
Sometime of Interamna, which is called Ferni,
Now of the delightful Court of Heaven,
Apology
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Eleanor Rogers Cox)For blows on the fort of evil
That never shows a breach,
For terrible life-long races
To a goal no foot can reach,
A Day That Is Boundless As Youth
© Robert Laurence Binyon
A day that is boundless as youth
And gay with delight to be born,
Where the waves flash and glide over sands
In their pure image rippled and worn;
Aurora Borealis
© Edouard Roditi
A crystallization of color spreads from the upper regions of the dark sky towards the trembling nipples of the waves. The feathering fringes of clouds fade behind pillars of green light. Transparent curtains tremble every-where. In the arctic temple, the hidden Samson of light shakes the moon-green pillars of the night.
Color these crystals with sudden blood; it is dawn, or else the last consumptive saliva of the dying day. Heartless hard light!
And We Shall Not Get Excited
© Yehuda Amichai
We shall remember the things we held in our hands
That slipped out.
What I have in my possesion and what I do not have in my possession.
An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion
© Yehuda Amichai
Afterward we found them among the bushes,
And our voices came back inside us
Laughing and crying.
A Dedication
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Take these rhymes into thy grace,
Since they are of thy begetting,
Lady, that dost make each place
Where thou art a jewel's setting.
A Dog After Love
© Yehuda Amichai
After you left me
I let a dog smell at
My chest and my belly. It will fill its nose
And set out to find you.
A Prayer
© Alfred Noyes
Only a little, O Father, only to rest
Or ever the night comes and the eternal sleep,
Only to rest a little, a little to weep
In the dead love's pitiful arms, on the dead love's breast,
A Jewish Cemetery In Germany
© Yehuda Amichai
On a little hill amid fertile fields lies a small cemetery,
a Jewish cemetery behind a rusty gate, hidden by shrubs,
abandoned and forgotten. Neither the sound of prayer
nor the voice of lamentation is heard there
A Man In His Life
© Yehuda Amichai
A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
A Precise Woman
© Yehuda Amichai
A precise woman: on the bedroom carpet
her shoes always point away from the bed.
(My own shoes point toward it.)
Anger Lay By Me
© Elizabeth Daryush
Anger lay by me all night long,
His breath was hot upon my brow,
He told me of my burning wrong,
All night he talked and would not go.
