Poems begining by Q
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Queen Anne's Lace
© Souster Raymond
It's a kind of flowerthat if you didn't know ityou'd pass by the rest of your life.
Queen of Hearts
© Rowley Rosemarie
Hers, from childhood the bitter pain of tearsDreamed a peep-shy wedding to a PrinceHer one longing to be cherished through the yearsBy a lover, husband, brother: not since
Quia Multum Amavit
© John Payne
Just a drowned woman, with death-draggled hair And wan eyes, all a-stare;The weary limbs composed in ghastly rest, The hands together prest,Tight holding something that the flood has spared, Nor even the rough workhouse folk have dared To separate from her wholly, but untiedGently the knotted hands and laid it by her side
Queer People
© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins
The people people work with best Are often very queerThe people people own by birth Quite shock your first idea;The people people choose for friends Your common sense appall,But the people people marry Are the queerest folks of all
Quand vous serez bien vieille
© Pierre de Ronsard
Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir à la chandelle,Assise auprès du feu, dévidant et filant,Direz, chantant mes vers, en vous esmerveillant:Ronsard me celebrait du temps que j'estois belle
Queen (9-10 p.m., Eastern Standard Time)
© Christakos Margaret
I was just trimming the beard about my sex(Sorry if you did not know royal women do this)
Quatrains
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
With beams December planets dart
His cold eye truth and conduct scanned,
July was in his sunny heart,
October in his liberal hand.
Quatrains
© Edith Matilda Thomas
WHAT if the Soul her real life elsewhere holds,
Her faint reflex Times darkling stream enfolds,
And thou and I, though seeming dwellers here,
Live some where yonder in the starlit sphere?
Queen-Anne's-Lace
© William Carlos Williams
Her body is not so white as
anemone petals nor so smooth-nor
Queries
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Well, how has it been with you since we met
That last strange time of a hundred times?
When we met to swear that we could forget
I your caresses, and you my rhymes
Questions
© Edith Nesbit
What do the roses do, mother,
Now that the summer's done?
They lie in the bed that is hung with red
And dream about the sun.
Queen Mab: Part IX.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Earth floated then below;
The chariot paused a moment there;
The Spirit then descended;
The restless coursers pawed the ungenial soil,
Snuffed the gross air, and then, their errand done,
Unfurled their pinions to the winds of heaven.
Queen Venus
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Queen Venus on a day of cloud
Forsook heaven's argent palaces,
Beneath the roofing vapours bowed
And sought a promontory loud
Questions And Answers
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHERE, oh where are the visions of morning,
Fresh as the dews of our prime?
Gone, like tenants that quit without warning,
Down the back entry of time.
Quitting Again
© Eugene Field
The hero of
Affairs of love
By far too numerous to be mentioned,
And scarred as I'm,
It seemeth time
That I were mustered out and pensioned.
Quiet
© Madison Julius Cawein
A log-hut in the solitude,
A clapboard roof to rest beneath!
This side, the shadow-haunted wood;
That side, the sunlight-haunted heath.
Question And Answer
© Mathilde Blind
"CAN the soul die, believe you?
Because it seems to me
My soul is dead and buried,
So still it seems to be.
