Life poems
/ page 66 of 844 /Crochet by Jan Mordenski : American Life in Poetry #270 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
We are sometimes amazed by how well the visually impaired navigate the world, but like the rest of us, they have found a way to do what interests them. Here Jan Mordenski of Michigan describes her mother, absorbed in crocheting.
Crochet
Even after darkness closed her eyes â¨
To Christian Gottfried Ehrenberg
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FOR HIS "JUBILAEUM" AT BERLIN, NOVEMBER 5, 1868
THOU who hast taught the teachers of mankind
Drinking Alone in the Moonlight
© Li Po
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
The Golden Legend: IV. The Road To Hirschau
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Elsie._ Onward and onward the highway runs
to the distant city, impatiently bearing
Tidings of human joy and disaster, of love and of
hate, of doing and daring!
Why, My Heart, Do We Love Her So?
© William Ernest Henley
Why, my heart, do we love her so?
(Geraldine, Geraldine!)
Some Account Of A New Play
© Richard Harris Barham
Tavistock Hotel, Nov. 1839.
Dear Charles,
- In reply to your letter, and Fanny's,
Lord Brougham, it appears, isn't dead,- though Queen Anne is;
'Twas a 'plot' and a 'farce'- you hate farces, you say -
Take another 'plot,' then, viz. the plot of a Play.
Beautiful-Bosomed, O Night
© Madison Julius Cawein
Who whisper in leaves and glimmer in blossoms and hover
In color and fragrance and loveliness, breathed from the deep
World-soul of the mother,
Nature; who over and over,-
Both sweetheart and lover,-
Goes singing her songs from one sweet month to the other.
Woodland Peace
© George Meredith
Sweet as Eden is the air,
And Eden-sweet the ray.
No Paradise is lost for them
Who foot by branching root and stem,
And lightly with the woodland share
The change of night and day.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 02 - Atomic Motions
© Lucretius
Now come: I will untangle for thy steps
Now by what motions the begetting bodies
Black Lizzie
© Henry Kendall
But let them pass! To right your wrong,
Aspasia of the ardent South,
Your poet means to sing a song
With some prolixity of mouth.
Don Juan: Canto The Fourth
© George Gordon Byron
Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
The Keeper of Sheep (Excepts)
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
But my sadness is calm
Because it is natural and right
And is what there should be in the soul
When it is thinking it exists
And the hands are picking flowers without noticing
which.
The Room Beneath the Rafters
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Sometimes when I have dropped asleep,
Draped in soft luxurious gloom,
How To Not Settle It
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I LIKE, at times, to hear the steeples' chimes
With sober thoughts impressively that mingle;
But sometimes, too, I rather like--don't you?--
To hear the music of the sleigh bells' jingle.
Fragment: Supposed To Be An Epithalamium Of Francis Ravaillac And Charlotte Corday
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Tis midnight now--athwart the murky air,
Dank lurid meteors shoot a livid gleam;
From the dark storm-clouds flashes a fearful glare,
It shows the bending oak, the roaring stream.
My Ladys Slipper
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Only the bark of my dog in the tower,
Glad in his play;
"Red was her cloak, and her face like a flower";
Hide it away!
Arabella Stuart
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
And is not love in vain,
Torture enough without a living tomb?
Byron