Poems begining by P
/ page 23 of 110 /Pyramus and Thisbe
© John Donne
Two, by themselves, each other, love and fear,
Slain, cruel friends, by parting have join'd here.
Prosperity
© George Moses Horton
Come, thou queen of every creature,
Nature calls thee to her arms ;
Love sits gay on every feature,
Teeming with a thousand charms.
Port Of Many Ships
© John Masefield
It's a sunny pleasant anchorage is Kingdom Come
Where the crew is always layin' aft with double-tots o' rum
'N' there's dancin' and there's fiddlin' of ev'ry kind o' sort
It's a fine place for sailormen is that there port.
'N' I wish --
I wish as I was there.
Pan The Fallen
© William Wilfred Campbell
He wandered into the market
With pipes and goatish hoof;
He wandered in a grotesque shape,
And no one stood aloof.
Playmates
© Ralph Hodgson
It's sixty years ago, the people say:
Two village children, neighbours born and bred,
Purpleis fashionable twice
© Emily Dickinson
Purpleis fashionable twice
This season of the year,
And when a soul perceives itself
To be an Emperor.
Pain
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Find me out a fortress, find
Such a mind within the mind
As can gather to its source
All of life's inveterate force,
Penal Law
© Austin Clarke
Burn Ovid with the rest. Lovers will find
A hedge-school for themselves and learn by heart
All that the clergy banish from the mind,
When hands are joined and head bows in the dark.
Psalm CXVII.
© Henry King
O all ye Nations record,
The Praises of the Lord;
Ye people through the Universe,
Your Makers praise rehearse.
Partnership in Fame
© Robert Fuller Murray
Love, when the present is become the past,
And dust has covered all that now is new,
When many a fame has faded out of view,
And many a later fame is fading fast -
Perennial Calendar (excerpt)
© William Forster
If now the sun extends his cheering beam,
And all the landscape casts a golden gleam
Planh For The Young English King
© Ezra Pound
If all the grief and woe and bitterness,
All dolour, ill and every evil chance
Painting by Vuillard
© Thom Gunn
Two dumpy women with buns were drinking coffee
In a narrow kitchenat least I think a kitchen
Piers Plowman The Prologue (B-Text)
© William Langland
In a somer sesun, whon softe was the sonn{.e},
I schop me into a shroud, as I a scheep wer{.e};
In habite as an hermite unholy of werk{.e}s
Wente I wyde in this world wondr{.e}s to her{.e};
Bote in a May{.e}s morwnynge on Malverne hull{.e}s
Me bifel a ferly, of fairie, me-thought{.e}.
Pure Imagination
© Roald Dahl
Come with me and you'll be
In a world of pure imagination
Take a look and you'll see
Into your imagination
Preparatory Meditations - Second Series: 12
© Edward Taylor
Dull, dull indeed! What, shall it e'er be thus?
And why? Are not Thy promises, my Lord,
Rich, quick'ning things? How should my full cheeks blush
To find me thus? And those a lifeless word?
My heart is heedless: unconcerned hereat:
I find my spirits spiritless and flat.