Poems begining by A

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As I Step Over A Puddle At The End Of Winter, I Think Of An Ancient Chinese Governor

© James Wright

And how can I, born in evil days

And fresh from failure, ask a kindness of Fate?

A Green Crab's Shell

© Mark Doty

Not, exactly, green:
closer to bronze
preserved in kind brine,

At the Gym

© Mark Doty

This salt-stain spot
marks the place where men
lay down their heads,
back to the bench,

Flattering Hope, away and leave me,
She'll not come, thou dost deceive me;
Hark the cock crows, th' envious light
Chides away the silent night;
Yet she comes not, oh ! how I tire
Betwixt cold fear and hot desire.

A Display Of Mackeral

© Mark Doty

They lie in parallel rows,
on ice, head to tail,
each a foot of luminosity
barred with black bands,
which divide the scales'
radiant sections

A Critic

© Walter Savage Landor

With much ado you fail to tell
The requisites for writing well;
But, what bad writing is, you quite
Have proved by every line you write.

At Currabwee

© Francis Ledwidge

Every night at Currabwee
Little men with leather hats
Mend the boots of Faery
From the tough wings of the bats.
So my mother told to me,
And she is wise you will agree. .

At Noon--And Midnight

© James Whitcomb Riley

Far in the night, and yet no rest for him! The pillow next his own
The wife's sweet face in slumber pressed--yet he awake--alone!
alone!
In vain he courted sleep;--one thought would ever in his heart
arise,--
The harsh words that at noon had brought the teardrops to her eyes.

A Parody On Euripides's Lyric Verse

© Aristophanes

Halcyons ye by the flowing sea

Waves that warble twitteringly,

A Dedication

© Robert Burns

The Poet, some guid angel help him,
Or else, I fear, some ill ane skelp him!
He may do weel for a' he's done yet,
But only-he's no just begun yet.

At The Sun-Rise In 1848

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

God said, Let there be light; and there was light.

Then heard we sounds as though the Earth did sing

Acrostic : Georgiana Augusta Keats

© John Keats

Kind sister! aye, this third name says you are;
Enchanted has it been the Lord knows where;
And may it taste to you like good old wine,
Take you to real happiness and give
Sons, daughters and a home like honied hive.

After Making Love We Hear Footsteps

© Galway Kinnell

In the half darkness we look at each other
and smile
and touch arms across his little, startling muscled body -
this one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making,
sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake,
this blessing love gives again into our arms.

A Woman

Oh, dwarfed and wronged, and stained with ill,

Behold! thou art a woman still!

A Runnable Stag

When the pods went pop on the broom, green broom,
And apples began to be golden-skinn'd,
We harbour'd a stag in the Priory coomb,
And we feather'd his trail up-wind, up-wind,

A Loafer

I hang about the streets all day,
At night I hang about;
I sleep a little when I may,
But rise betimes the morning's scout;
For through the year I always hear
Afar, aloft, a ghostly shout.