Poems begining by N
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Numbers
© Mary Cornish
I like the generosity of numbers.
The way, for example,
they are willing to count
anything or anyone:
two pickles, one door to the room,
eight dancers dressed as swans.
Nuns Fret Not at Their Convent’s Narrow Room
© André Breton
Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room;
And hermits are contented with their cells;
Northern Farmer: New Style
© Alfred Tennyson
Dosn't thou 'ear my 'erse's legs, as they canters awaäy?
Proputty, proputty, proputty—that's what I 'ears 'em saäy.
Proputty, proputty, proputty—Sam, thou's an ass for thy paaïns:
Theer's moor sense i' one o' 'is legs, nor in all thy braaïns.
Niagara
© Daniel Nester
Driving westward near Niagara, that transfiguring of the waters,
I was torn—as moon from orbit by a warping of gravitation—
From coercion of the freeway to the cataract’s prodigality,
Had to stand there, breathe its rapture, inebriety of the precipice . . .
Not to Be Dwelled On
© Heather McHugh
Self-interest cropped up even there,
the day I hoisted three instead of the
two called-for
spades of loam onto
the coffin of my friend.
Nights of 1964—1966: The Old Reliable
© Marilyn Hacker
for Lewis Ellingham
The laughing soldiers fought to their defeat . . .
James Fenton, “In a Notebook”
Noah’s Wife
© Michael Rosen
is doing her usual for comic relief.
She doesn’t
see why she should get on the boat, etc.,
North
© Seamus Justin Heaney
I returned to a long strand,
the hammered curve of a bay,
and found only the secular
powers of the Atlantic thundering.
Night of Love
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
The moon has left the sky, love,
The stars are hiding now,
And frowning on the world, love,
Night bares her sable brow.
Nature
© Henry David Thoreau
In some withdrawn, unpublic mead
Let me sigh upon a reed,
Or in the woods, with leafy din,
Whisper the still evening in:
Some still work give me to do, -
Only - be it near to you!
Night Thoughts
© Carl Rakosi
After the jostling on canal streets
and the orchids blowing in the window
I work in cut glass and majolica
and hear the plectrum of the angels.
November Cotton Flower
© Jean Toomer
Boll-weevil’s coming, and the winter’s cold,
Made cotton-stalks look rusty, seasons old,
Noonis the Hinge of Day
© Emily Dickinson
Noonis the Hinge of Day
Eveningthe Tissue Door
Morningthe East compelling the sill
Till all the World is ajar
Night Singing
© William Stanley Merwin
Long after Ovid’s story of Philomela
has gone out of fashion and after the testimonials
Neighbors by David Allen Evans: American Life in Poetry #1 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
We all know that the manner in which people behave toward one another can tell us a lot about their private lives. In this amusing poem by David Allan Evans, Poet Laureate of South Dakota, we learn something about a marriage by being shown a couple as they take on an ordinary household task.
Neighbors
They live alone
together,
Note to Reality
© Tony Hoagland
but your honeycombs and beetles; the dry blond fascicles of grass
thrust up above the January snow.
Your postcards of Picasso and Matisse,
from the museum series on European masters.
Nonsense Alphabet
© Edward Lear
A was an Area Arch
Where washerwomen sat;
They made a lot of lovely starch
To starch Papa's cravat.
