Mom poems
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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.
happiness
© Rg Gregory
happiness is the stuff of birthdays
and the coming of sweet things
when they are not expected
Aspiring Miss DeLaine
© Francis Bret Harte
(A CHEMICAL NARRATIVE)
Certain facts which serve to explain
A Story Of Doom: Book VI.
© Jean Ingelow
"Now to-day
One cometh, yea, an harmless man, a fool,
Who boasts he hath a message from our God,
And lest that you, for bravery of heart
And stoutness, being angered with his prate,
Should lift a hand, and kill him, I am here."
at the sixty-ninth station
© Rg Gregory
here at the sixty-ninth station
of the gregokaido road
i have a sense of completion
that is not completed yet
sea horn
© Rg Gregory
within the shell swim all the sea's fish
our ears too are compendiums of sound
the big bang exploded - such a long wish
waves and warps towards the present ground
The South-Wester
© George Meredith
Day of the cloud in fleets! O day
Of wedded white and blue, that sail
wimborne minster
© Rg Gregory
though there's not much faith left
and very little snow
this scene of wimborne minster
still makes its christmas show
that precise moment
© Rg Gregory
however foul the times or difficult the ways are
through those personal morasses this change of age
wont let a single being (rich or poor) be free from
come spring the trees get on with their blossoming
youd think they didnt read the newspapers
symbolically concerned
© Rg Gregory
dodona oak (the tree of life) sheds leaves
nutritious-which feeds blood and mind today
theres not a jot (from which the present cleaves)
can be dispensed with all lifes array
Experience
© Jane Taylor
--A COSTLY good ; that none e'er bought or sold
For gem, or pearl, or miser's store, twice told :
Save certain watery pearls, possessed by all,
Which, one by one, may buy it as they fall.
Of these, though precious, few will not suffice,
So slow the traffic, and so large the price !
Passion
© Archibald Lampman
As a weed beneath the ocean,
As a pool beneath a tree
Answers with each breath or motion
An imperious mastery;
a readers de profundis
© Rg Gregory
in my reading of the moment i have learned
the figure next to christ in da vincis last supper
(a painting i have actually seen in a milan church
fragilely restored) is a woman an honour earned
by mary magdalene who (according to research)
turns out to be christs wife hang on what a whopper
The Grave
© Robert Blair
While some affect the sun, and some the shade,
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying through life;the task be mine,
Young Blood
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"But, sir," I said, "they tell me the man is like to die!" The Canon shook his head indulgently. "Young blood, Cousin," he boomed. "Young blood! Youth will be served!"
-- D'Hermonville's Fabliaux.
He woke up with a sick taste in his mouth
And lay there heavily, while dancing motes
Winged Man
© Stephen Vincent Benet
The moon, a sweeping scimitar, dipped in the stormy straits,
The dawn, a crimson cataract, burst through the eastern gates,
The cliffs were robed in scarlet, the sands were cinnabar,
Where first two men spread wings for flight and dared the hawk afar.
The Quality of Courage
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Was it not better so to lie?
The fight was done. Even gods tire
Of fighting. . . . My way was the wrong.
Now I should drift and drift along
To endless quiet, golden peace . . .
And let the tortured body cease.
The General Public
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?" -- Browning.
"Shelley? Oh, yes, I saw him often then,"
The old man said. A dry smile creased his face
With many wrinkles. "That's a great poem, now!
That one of Browning's! Shelley? Shelley plain?
The time that I remember best is this --
Ring the Bell, Watchman!
© Henry Clay Work
High is the belfry the old sexton stands,
Grasping the rope with his thin bony hands;
Fix'd is his gaze, as by some magic spell,
Till he hears the distant murmmer,
Ring, ring the bell.
Love in Twilight
© Stephen Vincent Benet
There is darkness behind the light -- and the pale light drips
Cold on vague shapes and figures, that, half-seen loom
Like the carven prows of proud, far-triumphing ships --
And the firelight wavers and changes about the room,
