Poems begining by M
/ page 65 of 130 /
Mid-March
© Lizette Woodworth Reese
The days go out with shouting; nights are loud;
Wild, warring shapes the wood lifts in the cold;
The moon’s a sword of keen, barbaric gold,
Plunged to the hilt into a pitch black cloud.
Mrs. Benjamin Pantier
© Edgar Lee Masters
I know that he told that I snared his soul
With a snare which bled him to death.
Meary-Anns Child
© William Barnes
Meary-Ann wer alwone wi' her beäby in eärms,
In her house wi' the trees over head,
Vor her husban' wer out in the night an' the storms,
In his business a-tweilèn vor bread;
An' she, as the wind in the elems did roar,
Did grievy vor Robert all night out o' door.
Mirror Image
© Samuel Menashe
Ribs ripple skin
Up to the nipples
Noah, equipped, knew
Every one has two
This ark I am in
Embarks my twin
Messiah (Christmas Portions)
© Mark Doty
A little heat caught
in gleaming rags,
in shrouds of veil,
torn and sun-shot swaddlings:
Moving Bells
© Henry Van Dyke
Dear is the magic of this hour: she seems
To walk before the dark by falling rills,
And lend a sweeter song to hidden streams;
She opens all the doors of night, and fills
With moving bells the music of my dreams,
That wander far among the sleeping hills.
Memory
© William Wordsworth
A pen-to register; a key-
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
Memorizing “The Sun Rising” by John Donne
© Billy Collins
Every reader loves the way he tells off
the sun, shouting busy old fool
into the English skies even though they
were likely cloudy on that seventeenth-century morning.
Magnets
© Robert Laurence Binyon
A far look in absorbed eyes, unaware
Of what some gazer thrills to gather there;
Mother, I cannot Mind my Wheel
© Heather Fuller
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
But Oh, who ever felt as I!
Mathematics Considered as a Vice
© Anthony Evan Hecht
I would invoke that man
Who chipped for all posterity an ass
(My soul is alight...)
© Anselm Hollo
III
My soul is alight with your infinitude of stars. Your world has broken upon me like a flood. The flowers of your garden blossom in my body. The joy of life that is everywhere burns like an incense in my heart. And the breath of all things plays on my life as on a pipe of reeds.
Metropolitan
© John Fuller
In cities there are tangerine briefcases on the down-platform
and jet parkas on the up-platform; in the mother of cities
there is equal anxiety at all terminals.
West a business breast, North a morose jig, East a false
Master and Boy
© George MacDonald
"WHO is this little one lying,"
Said Time, "at my garden-gate,
Moaning and sobbing and crying,
Out in the cold so late?"
May Day
© Sara Teasdale
The shining line of motors,
The swaying motor-bus,
The prancing dancing horses
Are passing by for us.
Memories
© Rudyard Kipling
"The eradication of memories of the Great War. -SOCIALIST GOVERNMENT ORGAN
The Socialist Government speaks:
THOUGH all the Dead were all forgot
And razed were every tomb,
Memory
© William Butler Yeats
ONE had a lovely face,
And two or three had charm,
But charm and face were in vain
Because the mountain grass
Cannot but keep the form
Where the mountain hare has lain.
