Car poems
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Elegy VI
© Henry James Pye
Now has bright Sol fulfill'd his circling course,
Again to Taurus roll'd his burning car,
Afskeden I Bamyan
© Bernhard Severin Ingemann
Tre Dage var jeg atter i Bamyan Gæst;
Een Ridder kun mig fulgte, og det var John Præst.
The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
© Thomas Hood
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,and with a broader sphere
The Choice of Valentines
© Thomas Nashe
Pardon sweete flower of matchless Poetrie,
And fairest bud the red rose euer bare ;
The Two Friends
© Charles Godfrey Leland
I HAVE two friendstwo glorious friendstwo better could not be,
And every night when midnight tolls they meet to laugh with me.
Gold painted jars - wines worth a thousand.
© Li Po
Jade carved dishes - food costing more.
I throw the chopsticks down,
Sabbath, My Love
© Yehudah HaLevi
Six slaves the weekdays are; I share
With them a round of toil and care,
Yet light the burdens seem, I bear
For your sweet sake, Sabbath, my love!
The Circles
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Within yon world-wide cirque of war
What's hidden which they fight so for?
The Hospital Window
© James Dickey
I have just come down from my father.
Higher and higher he lies
Above me in a blue light
Shed by a tinted window.
I drop through six white floors
And then step out onto pavement.
Off To School
© Edgar Albert Guest
IT doesn't seem a year ago that I was tumbling out of bed,
The icy steps that lead below at 1 a.m., barefoot, to tread,
And puttering round the kitchen stove, while chills ran up and down my form
As I stood there and waited for her bottled dinner to get warm;
Then sampled it to see that it was not too hot or not too cool,
That doesn't seem a year ago, and now she's trudging off to school.
Cicadas at the End of Summer by Martin Walls: American Life in Poetry #24 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laur
© Ted Kooser
But all you ever see is the silence.
Husks, glued to the underside of maple leaves.
With their nineteen fifties Bakelite lines they'd do
just as well hanging from the ceiling of a space
museum —
Hyperion. Book II
© John Keats
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
Safi
© Henry Kendall
Was it light, was it shadow he followed,
That he swept through those desperate tracts,
With his hair beating back on his shoulders
Like the tops of the wind-hackled flax?
Alternation
© George Meredith
Between the fountain and the rill
I passed, and saw the mighty will
To leap at sky; the careless run,
As earth would lead her little son.
To One Threatened With Blindness
© George MacDonald
I.
Lawrence, what though the world be growing dark,
Nest by Marianne Boruch: American Life in Poetry #127 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Poet Marianne Boruch of Indiana finds a bird's nest near her door. It is the simplest of discoveries, yet she uses it to remind us that what at first seems ordinary, even âmade a mess of,â? can be miraculously transformed upon careful reflection.
Nest
The Heather Branch
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the pale night air,
From wandering lone in the warm scented wood,
The sighing, shadowy, bright solitude
Of leafy glade, and the rough upland bare,
