Poems begining by P
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Poste Restante
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
I want you to know how it was,
whether the Cross grinds into dust
under men’s wheels or shines brightly
as a monument to a new era.
Paradise Lost: Book X
© Patrick Kavanagh
So having said, he thus to Eve in few:
"Say, Woman, what is this which thou hast done?"
To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh overwhelm'd,
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge
Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd replied,
"The Serpent me beguil'd, and I did eat."
Penumbra
© Amy Lowell
The old house will guard you,
As I have done.
Its walls and rooms will hold you,
And I shall whisper my thoughts and fancies
As always,
From the pages of my books.
Peach Fires?
© David St. John
Almost frozen in the bleak spring night
& Mister dragged out into the rows
Between his peach trees the old dry limbs
Pastoral Dialogue
© Anne Killigrew
Remember when you love, from that same hour
Your peace you put into your lover’s power;
Plucking your eyebrows
© Kabir
Plucking your eyebrows,
Putting on mascara,
But will that help you
To see things anew?
Passing Through
© Ai
“Earth is the birth of the blues,” sang Yellow Bertha,
as she chopped cotton beside Mama Rose.
Parental Recollections
© Charles Lamb
A child's a plaything for an hour;
Its pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space;
Then tire, and lay it by.
Phases
© Edwin Muir
I.
There’s a little square in Paris,
Waiting until we pass.
They sit idly there,
They sip the glass.
Portraits
© Laura Riding Jackson
Mother came to visit today. We
hadn’t seen each other in years. Why didn’t
Poem (The day gets slowly started)
© James Schuyler
The day gets slowly started.
A rap at the bedroom door,
Part for the Whole
© Robert Francis
When others run to windows or out of doors
To catch the sunset whole, he is content
With any segment anywhere he sits.
Portrait of a Lady
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
The voice returns like the insistent out-of-tune
Of a broken violin on an August afternoon:
"I am always sure that you understand
My feelings, always sure that you feel,
Sure that across the gulf you reach your hand.
Poet Dances with Inanimate Object
© Cornelius Eady
for Jim Schley
The umbrella, in this case;
Earlier, the stool, the
Wooden pillars that hold up
the roof.
Pangur Bán
© Pierre Reverdy
From the ninth-century Irish poem
Pangur Bán and I at work,
Adepts, equals, cat and clerk:
His whole instinct is to hunt,
Mine to free the meaning pent.
Paradise Regain'd: Book II (1671)
© Patrick Kavanagh
MEan while the new-baptiz'd, who yet remain'd
At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen
