Dreams poems
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Dreams
© Caroline Norton
SURELY I heard a voice-surely my name
Was breathed in tones familiar to my heart!
I listened-and the low wind stealing came,
In darkness and in silence to depart.
The Golden Gallery At Saint Pauls
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The Golden Gallery lifts its aery crown
O'er dome and pinnacle: there I leaned and gazed.
Is this indeed my own familiar town,
This busy dream? Beneath me spreading hazed
The Vanity of Human Wishes (excerpts)
© Samuel Johnson
45 Yet still one gen'ral cry the skies assails,
46 And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
47 Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care,
48 Th' insidious rival and the gaping heir.
Sordello: Book the Third
© Robert Browning
Whereat he rose.
The level wind carried above the firs
Clouds, the irrevocable travellers,
Onward.
two south coast poems (a) this morning i came within sound of the sea
© Rg Gregory
for a man whose eyes till now were a bed of rock
whose hands were drier than deserts
the sea's voice drove fear up through the valley
the tributaries meandering inside me longing for outlet
shrivelled even as their own courses became straight
confessions of a fool
© Rg Gregory
(i)
i believed in flower-power (the triumph of the meek)
the thought that what a wind could bend was not to be
derided for its weakness but known to draw its calm
from a corporate sense of self (its many-ed history)
that tyranny (in the long blow) lacked the will to break
Scum O' The Earth
© Robert Haven Schauffler
Newcomers all from the eastern seas,
Help us incarnate dreams like these.
Forget, and forgive, that we did you wrong.
Help us to father a nation, strong
In the comradeship of an equal birth,
In the wealth of the richest bloods of earth.
shaw and jung
© Rg Gregory
shaw had the gift of the crab
how he took the straight idea
and scuttled with it sideways
marking sand and word with sea's
legs rivers and age
© Rg Gregory
with landbound legs a wish
for the easy flow of a river - not
the clambering up crags to seek
more favour from the sun
The Twins
© James Whitcomb Riley
One 's the pictur' of his Pa,
And the _other_ of her Ma--
Jes the bossest pair o' babies 'at a mortal ever saw!
And we love 'em as the bees
Loves the blossoms of the trees,
A-ridin' and a-rompin' in the breeze!
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Prelude
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then down the road, with mud besprent,
And drenched with rain from head to hoof,
The rain-drops dripping from his mane
And tail as from a pent-house roof,
A jaded horse, his head down bent,
Passed slowly, limping as he went.
By An Autumn Stream
© Archibald Lampman
Now overhead,
Where the rivulet loiters and stops,
The bittersweet hangs from the tops
Of the alders and cherries
Its bunches of beautiful berries,
Orange and red.
advice to a young sylv-i-an dragon on going to school
© Rg Gregory
when you step out of the wood and go first time to school
you have to be so specially careful if you're really a dragon
to put the most innocent expression on your face you can find
and not flip your flappers (unless the others don't mind)
you must be very strict with yourself - be sure not to act the fool
you'd be far happier i think to get your mother to tie a tag on
The Mulberry Tree
© James Whitcomb Riley
It's many's the scenes which is dear to my mind
As I think of my childhood so long left behind;
the buddhas tooth
© Rg Gregory
(for matt 15)in the first seven years you choose your howdah
having by then bare inklings of a journey
but where or why - confusion there to cloud a
judgement no more ready than a sore knee
ducks and wisdom
© Rg Gregory
[from a motif by Jean Dunand (1877-1942)]seven lacqueur ducks on a silver pond
their rippling held in a moveless frieze
nothing now can help them swim beyond
the stoned edges (invent a new-age breeze)
against the ladling of doom
© Rg Gregory
crisis has a fact to get straight
it needn't be the end of the world
beginnings too are coated with death
Autumn Evenings
© Edgar Albert Guest
Apples on the table an' the grate-fire blazin' high,
Oh, I'm sure the whole world hasn't any happier man than I;
The Mother sittin' mendin' little stockin's, toe an' knee,
An' tellin' all that's happened through the busy day to me:
Oh, I don't know how to say it, but these cosy autumn nights
Seem to glow with true contentment an' a thousand real delights.
uganda cry
© Rg Gregory
uganda (victim to a white
man's piece of chalk) now victim to
a gloated bitterness in black
your griefs have swamped the nile
transformations
© Rg Gregory
and the swords came in their varying degrees
of shininess and sharpness some never
having lost their pristine feel others with blunt
tips and broken blades a few so steeped in blood
a dried rustiness still stained them - and those wilted
at the hilt (weary of the code that bred them)
