Poems begining by C
/ page 44 of 99 /
Consolation. (To M. Duperrier, Gentleman Of Aix In Provence, On The Death Of His Daughter)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Will then, Duperrier, thy sorrow be eternal?
And shall the sad discourse
Whispered within thy heart, by tenderness paternal,
Only augment its force?
Constant Beauty
© Edgar Albert Guest
It's good to have the trees again, the singing of the breeze again,
It's good to see the lilacs bloom as lovely as of old.
It's good that we can feel again the touch of beauties real again,
For hearts and minds, of sorrow now, have all that they can hold.
Chilling autumn rains
© Matsuo Basho
Chilling autumn rains
curtain Mount Fuji, then make it
more beautiful to see
Cupid Caught Napping
© Ellis Parker Butler
Cupid on a summer day,
Wearied by unceasing play,
In a rose heart sleeping lay,
While, to guard the tricksy fellow,
Circumstantial Evidence
© Ellis Parker Butler
She does not mind a good cigar
(The kind, that is, I smoke);
She thinks all men quite stupid are,
(But laughs wheneer I joke).
Courage
© Celia Thaxter
Because I hold it sinful to despond,
And will not let the bitterness of life
Blind me with burning tears, but look beyond
Its tumult and its strife;
Celebrate
© Anna Akhmatova
Celebrate our anniversary cant you see
tonight the snowy night of our first winter
comes back again in every road and tree -
that winter night of diamantine splendour.
Crucifix
© Anna Akhmatova
I
This greatest hour was hallowed and thandered
By angel's choirs; fire melted sky.
He asked his Father:"Why am I abandoned...?"
And told his Mother: "Mother, do not cry..."
Callous Cupid
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
CUPID does not care for sighs
Does not care for lover's weeping!
Constantly Risking Absurdity
© Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Constantly risking absurdity
and death
whenever he performs
above the heads
Conversation Galante
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
I OBSERVE: Our sentimental friend the moon!
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)
It may be Prester Johns balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor travellers to their distress.
She then: How you digress!
Child In Red
© Rainer Maria Rilke
Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.
Childhood
© Rainer Maria Rilke
It would be good to give much thought, before
you try to find words for something so lost,
for those long childhood afternoons you knew
that vanished so completely --and why?
Crab
© Sharon Olds
When I eat crab, slide the rosy
rubbery claw across my tongue
I think of my mother. She'd drive down
to the edge of the Bay, tiny woman in a
Chopin
© Emma Lazarus
IA dream of interlinking hands, of feet
Tireless to spin the unseen, fairy woof
Of the entangling waltz. Bright eyebeams meet,
Gay laughter echoes from the vaulted roof.
Consolation
© Billy Collins
How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,
wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.
How much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard
and all the sudden hand gestures of my compatriots.
Child Development
© Billy Collins
As sure as prehistoric fish grew legs
and sauntered off the beaches into forests
working up some irregular verbs for their
first conversation, so three-year-old children
enter the phase of name-calling.
Candle Hat
© Billy Collins
In most self-portraits it is the face that dominates:
Cezanne is a pair of eyes swimming in brushstrokes,
Van Gogh stares out of a halo of swirling darkness,
Rembrant looks relieved as if he were taking a breather
from painting The Blinding of Sampson.
Cesar Vallejo
© Luis Benitez
Walking along the corridors of imagination,
free and alone forever, as when he was
and didn't know he was a child,
until forgetting that I'm imagining.
Crow's Fall
© Ted Hughes
When Crow was white he decided the sun was too white.
He decided it glared much too whitely.
He decided to attack it and defeat it.
