Poems begining by A
/ page 286 of 345 /
Album
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
My father is dead.
I who am look at him
who is not, as once he
went looking for me
in the woman who was.
A Welsh Testament
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter?
I spoke a tongue that was passed on
To me in the place I happened to be,
A place huddled between grey walls
A Peasant
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
Iago Prytherch his name, though, be it allowed,
Just an ordinary man of the bald Welsh hills,
Who pens a few sheep in a gap of cloud.
Docking mangels, chipping the green skin
An Old Man
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
But where in meadow or mountain shall I match
The individual accent of the speech
That is the ear's familiar? To what sun attribute
The honeyed warmness of his smile?
To which of the deciduous brood is german
The angel peeping from the latticed eye?
A Blackbird Singing
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
It seems wrong that out of this bird,
Black, bold, a suggestion of dark
Places about it, there yet should come
Such rich music, as though the notes'
Ore were changed to a rare metal
At one touch of that bright bill.
A Woman's Reason
© Gelett Burgess
I'm Sure every Word that you say is Absurd;
I Say it's All Gummidge and Twaddle;
You may Argue away till the 19th of May,
But I don't like the Sound of the Moddle!
Asked how old he was
© Kobayashi Issa
Asked how old he was,
the boy in the new kimono
stretched out all five fingers.
All the time I pray to Buddha
© Kobayashi Issa
All the time I pray to Buddha
I keep on
killing mosquitoes.
A Map Of Love
© Donald Justice
Your face more than others' faces
Maps the half-remembered places
I have come to I while I slept
Continents a dream had kept
Anonymous Drawing
© Donald Justice
A delicate young Negro stands
With the reins of a horse clutched loosely in his hands;
So delicate, indeed, that we wonder if he can hold the spirited creature
beside him
A Birthday Candle
© Donald Justice
Thirty today, I saw
The trees flare briefly like
The candles on a cake,
As the sun went down the sky,
A momentary flash,
Yet there was time to wish
Absences
© Donald Justice
It's snowing this afternoon and there are no flowers.
There is only this sound of falling, quiet and remote,
Like the memory of scales descending the white keys
Of a childhood piano--outside the window, palms!
And the heavy head of the cereus, inclining,
Soon to let down its white or yellow-white.
A Rajput Love Song
© Sarojini Naidu
O Love! were you the scented fan
that lies upon my pillow,
A sandal lute, or silver lamp that burns before my shrine,
Why should I fear the jealous dawn
that spreads with cruel laughter,
Sad veils of separation between your face and mine?
Attack of the Squash People
© Marge Piercy
Sneak out before dawn to drop
them in other people's gardens,
in baby buggies at churchdoors.
Shot, smuggling zucchini into
mailboxes, a federal offense.
A Song of Sherwood
© Alfred Noyes
Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake,
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.
April Aubade
© Sylvia Plath
Worship this world of watercolor mood
in glass pagodas hung with veils of green
where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood
and sap ascends the steeple of the vein.
