Music poems
/ page 202 of 253 /The Tenor Man
© Adrian Green
Pottering around the stage,
a hyperactive ancient in his own backyard -
independent of the band it seems.
Bluenote Time
© Adrian Green
in the soft jazz and midnight hour
your eyes are dancing close to mine
a sway of hips, a touch of lips
A Minuet Of Mozart's
© Sara Teasdale
Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And glimmered gold against the gloom.
The Pixy and the Grocer
© Hans Christian Andersen
How bright the room seemed! It was as if a ray of light came from the book, a luminous tree whose branches spread out across the ceiling. The leaves were fresh and green and on each branch flowers bloomed and fruit hung. The flowers were faces of young maidens, some with radiant dark eyes and other(s) with clear blue ones. The fruits were sparkling stars. All the while the most beautiful music could be heard.
……………….
Earlier Poems : Hymn Of The Moravian Nuns Of Bethlehem
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Take thy banner! and if e'er
Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier,
And the muffled drum should beat
To the tread of mournful feet,
Then this crimson flag shall be
Martial cloak and shroud for thee."
The Coal-Fire
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
1.
COME, we 'll light the parlor fire;
Winter sets in sharp and rough.
Wood is dear, but coal's provided,
Some Foreign Letters
© Anne Sexton
I knew you forever and you were always old,
soft white lady of my heart. Surely you would scold
me for sitting up late, reading your letters,
as if these foreign postmarks were meant for me.
The River Cherwell
© William Lisle Bowles
Cherwell! how pleased along thy willowed edge
Erewhile I strayed, or when the morn began
The Earth
© Anne Sexton
God loafs around heaven,
without a shape
but He would like to smoke His cigar
or bite His fingernails
and so forth.
A Contemplation
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Then let my Contemplation soar
And Heav'n my Subject be
Though low on Earth in nature poor
Some prospect we may see
The Big Boots Of Pain
© Anne Sexton
There can be certain potions
needled in the clock
for the body's fall from grace,
to untorture and to plead for.
Poor Kitty Popcorn
© Henry Clay Work
Did you ever hear the story of the loyal cat? Meyow!
Who was faithful to the flag, and ever follow'd that? Meyow!
Oh, she had a happy home beneath a southern sky,
But she pack'd her goods and left it when our troups came nigh,
And she fell into the collumn with a low glad cry, Meyow!
Doubtful Dreams
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Aye, snows are rife in December,
And sheaves are in August yet,
The Bells
© Anne Sexton
Today the circus poster
is scabbing off the concrete wall
and the children have forgotten
if they knew at all.
Amarantha. A Pastorall
© Richard Lovelace
Up with the jolly bird of light
Who sounds his third retreat to night;
Faire Amarantha from her bed
Ashamed starts, and rises red
Little Lucy Landman
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Oh, the day has set me dreaming
In a strange, half solemn way
The Death Baby
© Anne Sexton
I was an ice baby.
I turned to sky blue.
My tears became two glass beads.
My mouth stiffened into a dumb howl.
They say it was a dream
but I remember that hardening.
Her Face.
© Robert Crawford
There is a something in her face
Which in no other I can trace,
And feelings sweet as music stir
When I gaze in her dreamy eyes,
Music Swims Back To Me
© Anne Sexton
Wait Mister. Which way is home?
They turned the light out
and the dark is moving in the corner.
There are no sign posts in this room,