Poems begining by N
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November
© Robert Nichols
Oozed from the bracken's desolate track,
By dark rains havocked and drenched black.
A fog about the coppice drifts,
Or slowly thickens up and lifts
Into the moist, despondent air.
No Difference
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Small as a peanut,
Big as a giant,
We're all the same size
When we turn off the light
Never Or Now
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
LISTEN, young heroes! your country is calling!
Time strikes the hour for the brave and the true!
Now, while the foremost are fighting and falling,
Fill up the ranks that have opened for you!
Netley Abbey
© William Lisle Bowles
Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate;
But when the winds, slow wafted from the main,
Next Turn
© Kenneth Slessor
No pause! The buried pipes ring out,
The flour-faced Antic runs from sight;
Now Columbine, with scarlet pout,
Floats in the smoking moon of light.
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XXXI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Rather I hold with those that tell it thus,
That they, who had made proof of their great faith,
Were joined no less with honour in love's house
By Holy Church, which binding looseneth,
Non es meravelha s'eu chan
© Bernard de Ventadorn
A Mo Cortes, lai on ilh es,
tramet lo vers, e ja no.lh pes
car n'ai estat tan lonjamen.
Nocturno (Nocturne)
© Delmira Agustini
Mi cuarto:…
Por un bello milagro de la luz y del fuego
Mi cuarto es una gruta de oro y gemas raras:
Tiene un musgo tan suave, tan hondo de tapices,
Y es tan vívida y cálida, tan dulce que me creo
Dentro de un corazón…
Nemesis
© Henry Lawson
It is night-time when the saddest and the darkest memories haunt,
When outside the printing office the most glaring posters flaunt,
When the love-wrong is accomplished. And I think of things and mark
That the blackest lies are written, told, and printed after dark.
Tis the time of late editions. It is night when, as of old,
Foulest things are done for hatred, for ambition, love and gold.
Neighbors in October by David Baker: American Life in Poetry #5 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-
© Ted Kooser
Though many of us were taught that poems have hidden meanings that must be discovered and pried out like the meat from walnuts, a poem is not a puzzle, but an experience. Here David Baker makes a gift to us through his deft description of an ordinary scene. Reading, we accept the experience of a poem and make it a part of our lives, just as we would take in the look of a mountain we passed on a trip. The poet's use of the words "we" and "neighbors" subtly underline the fact that all of us are members of the human community, much alike, facing the changing seasons together.
New Water by Sharon Chmielarz: American Life in Poetry #99 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
My maternal grandparents got their drinking water from a well in the yard, and my disabled uncle carried it sloshing to the house, one bucket of hard red water early every morning. I couldn't resist sharing this lovely little poem by Minnesota poet, Sharon Chmielarz.
Not Yet
© Katharine Lee Bates
NOT yet hath Nature, lovely colorist,
Bestirred her from creative dream to fling
Nightmare For Future Reference
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"Not like this," he said. "I can show you the curve.
It looks like the side of a mountain, going down.
And faster, the last three months yes, a good deal faster.
I showed it to Lobenheim and he was puzzled.
It makes a neat problem yes?" He looked at me.
Nightmare At Noon
© Stephen Vincent Benet
But do not call it loud. There is plenty of time.
There is plenty of time, while the bombs on London fall
And turn the world to wind and water and fire.
There is time to sleep while the fire-bombs fall on London,
They are stubborn people in London.
Nothing and Something
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
It is nothing to me, the young man cried:
In his eye was a flash of scorn and pride;
I heed not the dreadful things ye tell:
I can rule myself I know full well.
Native Companions Dancing
© John Shaw Neilson
On the blue plains in wintry days
The stately birds move in the dance.
Keen eyes have they, and quaint old ways
No My Friends No!
© William Gay
Hail foes to oppression, and lovers of freedom!
Your day has arrived, and your power you know:-
