Love poems
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The Raspberry Room by Karin Gottshall: American Life in Poetry #126 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
The British writer Virginia Woolf wrote about the pleasures of having a room of one's own. Here the Vermont poet Karin Gottshall shows us her own sort of private place.
And their feet move
© Sappho
And their feet move
rhythmically, as tender
feet of Cretan girls
danced once around an
To Fortune
© James Thomson
For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
An unrelenting foe to love,
And when we meet a mutual heart
Come in between, and bid us part;
The Times Are Tidy
© Sylvia Plath
Unlucky the hero born
In this province of the stuck record
Where the most watchful cooks go jobless
And the mayor's rôtisserie turns
Round of its own accord.
The Toll-Mans Daughter
© Madison Julius Cawein
Once more the June with her great moon
Poured harvest o'er the golden fields;
You Will Not Come Again
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The green has come to the leafless tree,
The earth brings forth its grain;
Comparison
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
THE sky of brightest gray seems dark
To one whose sky was ever white.
When I Love
© Nizar Qabbani
When I love
I feel that I am the king of time
I possess the earth and everything on it
and ride into the sun upon my horse.
Sonnet XXIII: Time, Cruel Time
© Samuel Daniel
Time, cruel Time, come and subdue that brow
Which conquers all but thee, and thee, too, stays
The Lady of the Lake: Canto VI. - The Guardroom
© Sir Walter Scott
Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule
Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl,
That there 's wrath and despair in the jolly black-jack,
And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack;
Yet whoop, Barnaby! off with thy liquor,
Drink upsees out, and a fig for the vicar!
Sweet Love Is Dead
© Alfred Austin
Sweet Love is dead:
Where shall we bury him?
In a green bed,
With no stone at his head,
And no tears nor prayers to worry him.
The Confederate Flags
© Ambrose Bierce
Tut-tut! give back the flags - how can you care,
You veterans and heroes?
The Song Of Israfel
© Marian Osborne
['And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures.'Koran.]
FAIR Israfel, the sweetest singer of Heaven,
Hampton Beach
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Ononwe tread with loose-flung rein
Our seaward way,
Through dark-green fields and blossoming grain,
Where the wild brier-rose skirts the lane,
And bends above our heads the flowering locust spray.
Writin' Back To The Home-Folks
© James Whitcomb Riley
My dear old friends--It jes beats all,
The way you write a letter
Light Mist Envelopes the Dim Moon
© Li Yu
Light mist envelopes the dim moon and bright flowers,
A perfect night to go to her darling's side.
Dream-Land (II)
© Frances Anne Kemble
When in my dreams thy lovely face,
Smiles with unwonted tender grace,
The Moonmen
© Madison Julius Cawein
I stood in the forest on HURON HILL
When the night was old and the world was still.
December Matins
© Alfred Austin
``Why, on this drear December morn,
Dost thou, lone Misselthrush, rehearse thy chanting?
One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue Part III
© Madison Julius Cawein
I seem to see her still; to see
That dim blue room. Her perfume comes
From lavender folds draped dreamily--
One blossom of brocaded blooms--
Some stuff of orient looms.
