Poems begining by P

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Pineapples And Pomegranates

© Paul Muldoon

To think that, as a boy of thirteen, I would grapple
with my first pineapple,
its exposed breast
setting itself as another test

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Promises, Promises

© Paul Muldoon

I am stretched out under the lean-to
Of an old tobacco-shed
On a farm in North Carolina.
A cardinal sings from the dogwood

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Pedlar

© Robert William Service

Pedlar's coming down the street,
Housewives beat a swift retreat.
Don't you answer to the bell;
Heedless what she has to sell.

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Pavement Poet

© Robert William Service

God's truth! these be the bitter times.
In vain I sing my sheaf of rhymes,
And hold my battered hat for dimes.

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Poet And Peer

© Robert William Service

They asked the Bard of Ayr to dine;
The banquet hall was fit and fine,
With gracing it a Lord;
The poet came; his face was grim
To find the place reserved for him
Was at the butler's board.

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Portrait

© Robert William Service

Because life's passing show
Is little to his mind,
There is a man I know
Indrawn from human kind.

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Poor Poet

© Robert William Service

'A man should write to please himself,'
He proudly said.
Well, see his poems on the shelf,
Dusty, unread.

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Pilgrims

© Robert William Service

For oh, when the war will be over
We'll go and we'll look for our dead;
We'll go when the bee's on the clover,
And the plume of the poppy is red:

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Pantheist

© Robert William Service

Lolling on a bank of thyme
Drunk with Spring I made this rhyme. . . .Though peoples perish in defeat,
And races suffer to survive,
The sunshine never was so sweet,

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Procreation

© Robert William Service

It hurts my pride that I should be
The issue of a night of lust;
Yet even Bishops, you'll agree,
Obey the biologic 'must';
Though no doubt with more dignity
Than we of layman dust.

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Post Office Romance

© Robert William Service

The lady at the corner wicket
Sold me a stamp, I stooped to lick it,
And on the envelope to stick it;
A spinster lacking girlish grace,
Yet sweetly sensitive, her face
Seemed to en-star that stodgy place.

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Property

© Robert William Service

The red-roofed house of dream design
Looks three ways on the sea;
For fifty years I've made it mine,
And held it part of me.

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Plebeian Plutocrat

© Robert William Service

I own a gorgeous Cadillac,
A chauffeur garbed in blue;
And as I sit behind his back
His beefy neck I view.

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Picture Dealer

© Robert William Service

There were twin artists A. and B.
Who painted pictures two,
And hung them in my galley
For everyone to view;

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Priscilla

© Robert William Service

Jerry MacMullen, the millionaire,
Driving a red-meat bus out there --
How did he win his Croix de Guerre?
Bless you, that's all old stuff:

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Pooch

© Robert William Service

Nurse, won't you let him in?
He's barkin' an' scratchen' the door,
Makin' so dreffel a din
I jest can't sleep any more;

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Privacy

© Robert William Service

Oh you who are shy of the popular eye,
(Though most of us seek to survive it)
Just think of the goldfish who wanted to die
Because she could never be private.

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Poor Cock Robin

© Robert William Service

My garden robin in the Spring
Was rapturous with glee,
And followed me with wistful wing
From pear to apple tree;

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Pipe Smoker

© Robert William Service

Because I love the soothing weed
And am of sober type,
I'd choose me for a friend in need
A man who smokes a pipe.

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Prayer

© Robert William Service

You talk o' prayer an' such -
Well, I jest don't know how;
I guess I got as much
Religion as a cow.