Poems begining by C
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Captain William Bligh
© Rex Ingamells
Look for an iron soul to bear the piled
anathema of time, to take, without
Christmas
© Sir Walter Scott
The glowing censers, and their rich perfume;
The splendid vestments, and the sounding choir;
Chessmen
© Kenneth Slessor
CHAFING on flags of ebony and pearl,
My paladins are waiting. Loops of smoke
Stoop slowly from the coffee-cups, and curl
In thin fantastic patterns down the room
Chant sur le berceau
© Victor Marie Hugo
Je veille. Ne crains rien. J'attends que tu t'endormes.
Les anges sur ton front viendront poser leurs bouches.
Je ne veux pas sur toi d'un rêve ayant des formes
Farouches ;
Can't
© Edgar Albert Guest
Can't is the worst word that's written or spoken;
Doing more harm here than slander and lies;
Cold are the Crabs
© Edward Lear
Cold are the crabs that crawl on yonder hills,
Colder the cucumbers that grow beneath,
Creation Made Like Hope
© James Dickey
Has experienced and has perched
Has put up with it and has disinvested
Has raised and has razed
Has pondered and has asked
Has said and has raised
Curious
© Alexander Pushkin
--Whats new? I tell you, nothing whatsoever.
--Dont fool with me: youre hiding it, I know.
California City Landscape
© Carl Sandburg
On a mountain-side the real estate agents
Put up signs marking the city lots to be sold there.
Chapter Heading
© Ernest Hemingway
For we have thought the larger thoughts
And gone the shorter way.
And we have danced to devil's tunes,
Shivering home to pray;
To serve one master in the night,
Another in the day.
Chaucer's Prophecy
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Sweet Jesus, heaven's King,
Fair and best of all thing,
You bring us out of this mourning,
To come to thee at our ending!
Canticle To Apollo
© Robert Herrick
Play, Phoebus, on thy lute,
And we will sit all mute;
By listening to thy lyre,
That sets all ears on fire.
Corydon: A Pastoral
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Nay, a simple swain
That tends his flock on yonder plain,
Naught else, I swear by book and bell.
But she that passed, you marked her well.
Was she not smooth as any be
That dwell herein in Arcady?
Catching the Moles by Judith Kitchen: American Life in Poetry #106 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 20
© Ted Kooser
By describing the relocation of the moles which ravaged her yard, Washington poet Judith Kitchen presents an experience that resonates beyond the simple details, and suggests that children can learn important lessons through observation of the natural world.
Catching the Moles
First we tamp down the ridges
that criss-cross the yard
Challenge
© Edgar Albert Guest
Life is a challenge to the bold,
It flings its gauntlet down
And bids us, if we seek for gold
And glory and renown,
To come and take them from its store,
It will not meekly hand them o'er.
Can you Remember?
© Edmund Blunden
Yes, I still remember
The whole thing in a way;
Edge and exactitude
Depend on the day.
Childless Woman
© Sylvia Plath
The womb
Rattles its pod, the moon
Discharges itself from the tree with nowhere to go.
Craigieburn Wood
© Robert Burns
Sweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
And blythe awakens the morrow,
But a' the pride o' spring's return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.
