Poems begining by A
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A Sick Soul
© John Newton
Physician of my sin-sick soul,
To thee I bring my case;
My raging malady control,
And heal me by thy grace.
Astropoetry On The Peak
© Gerald England
cocooned in thermal underwear
thick overcoat, scarf and woolly hat
to withstand the biting mountain air
And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair
© Lord Byron
And thou art dead, as young and fair
As aught of mortal birth;
And form so soft, and charms so rare,
Too soon return'd to Earth!
And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?
© Lord Byron
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.
An Answer
© Alfred Austin
Come, let us go into the lane, love mine,
And mark and gather what the Autumn grows:
'All Is Vanity,' Saith the Preacher
© Lord Byron
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,
And health and youth possessed me;
My goblets blushed from every vine,
And lovely forms caressed me;
Adieu, Adieu! My Native Land
© Lord Byron
Adieu, adieu! my native shore
Fades o'ver the waters blue;
The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild sea-mew.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - March
© George MacDonald
1.
THE song birds that come to me night and morn,
A Sunset
© William Watson
Westward a league the city lay, with one
Cloud's imminent umbrage o'er it: when behold,
At the Bridal Shop by Joseph O. Legaspi : American Life in Poetry #210 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureat
© Ted Kooser
My father was the manager of a store in which chairs were strategically placed for those dutiful souls waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for shoppers. Such patience is the most exhausting work there is, or so it seems at the time. This poem by Joseph O. Legaspi perfectly captures one of those scenes.
At the Bridal Shop
A Winter Ship
© Sylvia Plath
At this wharf there are no grand landings to speak of.
Red and orange barges list and blister
Shackled to the dock, outmoded, gaudy,
And apparently indestructible.
The sea pulses under a skin of oil.
A Rocking Hymn
© George Wither
Sweet baby, sleep! what ails my dear,
What ails my darling thus to cry?
Be still, my child, and lend thine ear
To hear me sing thy lullaby.
My pretty lamb, forbear to weep;
Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep.
A Spirit Passed Before Me
© Lord Byron
A spirit passed before me: I beheld
The face of immortality unveiled
Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine
And there it stood,all formlessbut divine:
Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake;
And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake:
And God Created Abortion
© Sharon Esther Lampert
Sharon Esther Lampert
Sexiest Creative Genius in Human History
8th Prophetess of Israel: 22 Commandments
http://www.poetryjewels.com
Anterotics
© William Ernest Henley
Laughs the happy April morn
Thro' my grimy, little window,
And a shaft of sunshine pushes
Thro' the shadows in the square.
Angina Pectoris
© Nazim Hikmet
If half my heart is here, doctor,
the other half is in China
with the army flowing
toward the Yellow River.
An Antique
© Madison Julius Cawein
Mildewed and gray the marble stairs
Rise from their balustraded urns
To where a chiseled satyr glares
From a luxuriant bed of ferns;
A Spring Piece Left In The Middle
© Nazim Hikmet
Taut, thick fingers punch
the teeth of my typewriter.
Three words are down on paper
in capitals:
