Poems begining by P

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Perhaps I asked too large

© Emily Dickinson

Perhaps I asked too large --
I take -- no less than skies --
For Earths, grow thick as
Berries, in my native town --

Peace is a fiction of our Faith --

© Emily Dickinson

Peace is a fiction of our Faith --
The Bells a Winter Night
Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound
That never did alight.

Pass to they Rendezvous of Light,

© Emily Dickinson

Pass to they Rendezvous of Light,
Pangless except for us --
Who slowly for the Mystery
Which thou hast leaped across!

Parting with Thee reluctantly,

© Emily Dickinson

Parting with Thee reluctantly,
That we have never met,
A Heart sometimes a Foreigner,
Remembers it forgot --

Paradise is that old mansion

© Emily Dickinson

Paradise is that old mansion
Many owned before --
Occupied by each an instant
Then reversed the Door --

Paradise is of the option.

© Emily Dickinson

Paradise is of the option.
Whosoever will
Own in Eden notwithstanding
Adam and Repeal.

Pain has but one Acquaintance

© Emily Dickinson

Pain has but one Acquaintance
And that is Death --
Each one unto the other
Society enough.

Pain -- expands the Time --

© Emily Dickinson

Pain -- expands the Time --
Ages coil within
The minute Circumference
Of a single Brain --

Purple -- is fashionable twice --

© Emily Dickinson

Purple -- is fashionable twice --
This season of the year,
And when a soul perceives itself
To be an Emperor.

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the NazareneThou can'st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,

Prayer is the little implement

© Emily Dickinson

Prayer is the little implement
Through which Men reach
Where Presence -- is denied them.
They fling their Speech

Praise it -- 'tis dead --

© Emily Dickinson

Praise it -- 'tis dead --
It cannot glow --
Warm this inclement Ear
With the encomium it earned

Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower,

© Emily Dickinson

Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower,
But I could never sell --
If you would like to borrow,
Until the Daffodil

Perception of an object costs

© Emily Dickinson

Perception of an object costs
Precise the Object's loss --
Perception in itself a Gain
Replying to its Price --

Patience -- has a quiet Outer --

Patience -- has a quiet Outer --
Patience -- Look within --
Is an Insect's futile forces
Infinites -- between --

Partake as doth the Bee,

Partake as doth the Bee,
Abstemiously.
The Rose is an Estate --
In Sicily.

Put up my lute!

Put up my lute!
What of -- my Music!
Since the sole ear I cared to charm --
Passive -- as Granite -- laps My Music --
Sobbing -- will suit -- as well as psalm!

Publication -- is the Auction

Publication -- is the Auction
Of the Mind of Man --
Poverty -- be justifying
For so foul a thing

Poor little Heart!

Poor little Heart!
Did they forget thee?
Then dinna care! Then dinna care!

Papa above!

Papa above!
Regard a Mouse
O'erpowered by the Cat!
Reserve within thy kingdom
A "Mansion" for the Rat!