Mom poems
/ page 6 of 212 /The River
© John Masefield
All other waters have their time of peace.Calm, or the turn of tide or summer drought;But on these bars the tumults never cease,In violent death this river passes out.
The Racer
© John Masefield
I saw the racer coming to the jump, Staring with fiery eyeballs as he rusht,I heard the blood within his body thump, I saw him launch, I heard the toppings crusht
The Song of the Ski
© MacDonald Wilson Pugsley
Norse am I when the first snow falls;Norse am I till the ice departs
Portable Demons
© Leggat Alexandra
I found the ghost of Dorothy Parkerin an old movie house in Times SquareI approached her with condolencesand slowly coerced her out of there
Ballad of the Gibbet
© Andrew Lang
An epitaph in the form of a ballad that François Villonwrote of himself and his company, they expectingshortly to be hanged
London: A Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal
© Samuel Johnson
Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel,
Flint and Feather
© Emily Pauline Johnson
Ojistoh1.2Of him whose name breathes bravery and life1.3And courage to the tribe that calls him chief.1.4I am Ojistoh, his white star, and he1.5Is land, and lake, and sky--and soul to me.
Saison des Semailles: Le Soir
© Victor Marie Hugo
C'est le moment crépusculaire.J'admire, assis sous un portail,Ce reste de jour dont s'éclaireLa dernière heure du travail.
Girl Watching
© Holbrook Susan
Wow, lookit her, there's a sunlit hay bale, there's a key lime pie and a million pixels
The Distance of the Dead
© Charles Harpur
How distant in a moment are the dead! Round Mamre's Cave, four thousand years ago,A long procession up from Egypt led, Closed mourning, like a sable cloud of woe
February 14
© Hamilton Jane Eaton
Above me you turn like an acrobaton blue string,your feet small and accurate.You are so far away.My love is not enough to pull youthrough the landscaped skyto this night-wet garden.