Poems begining by R

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62

When you are seventeen you aren't really serious.
- One fine evening, you've had enough of beer and lemonade,
And the rowdy cafes with their dazzling lights!
- You go walking beneath the green lime trees of the promenade.

Rain

© Madison Julius Cawein

Around, the stillness deepened; then the grain

Went wild with wind; and every briery lane

Rimas XLIX

© Gustavo Adolfo Becquer

Alguna vez la encuentro por el mundo
Y pasa junto a mi:
Y pasa sonriendose, y yo digo:
?Como puede reir?

Reaching the Hermitage

© Li Po

At evening I make it down the mountain.

Keeping company with the moon.

Rappelle-Toi

© Henry Van Dyke

Remember, when the timid light

Through the enchanted hall of dawn is gleaming;

Raison D'Etre

© Edith Nesbit

What is the day? A frame of blue
The vacant-glaring sun grins through.
What is the night? A sable veil
Through which the moon peers tired and pale.

Rimas XXX

© Gustavo Adolfo Becquer

Asomaba a sus ojos una lagrima
Y a mi labio una frase de perdon;
Hablo el orgullo y se enjugo su llanto,
Y la frase en mis labios expiro.

Rheims Cathedral -- 1914

© Grace Hazard Conkling

But who has heard within thy valuted gloom
That old divine insistence of the sea,
When music flows along the sculptured stone
In tides of prayer, for him thy windows bloom
Like faithful sunset, warm immortally!
Thy bells live on, and Heaven is in their tone!

Roses In Madrid

© Isabella Valancy Crawford

Roses, Senors, roses!

Love is subtly hid

Robert E. Lee

© Gamaliel Bradford

O Robert Lee, you paladin,
I wonder how my words would strike you.
I know the portrait might have been
In many, many ways more like you.

Rich Man

© Franklin Pierce Adams

The rich man has his motor-car,

His country and his town estate.

Requiescat

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

We never knew the Sorrow or the pain
Within him, for he seemed as one asleep
Until he faced us with a dying leap,
And with a blast of paramount, profane,

Red Riding Hood

© John Greenleaf Whittier

On the wide lawn the snow lay deep,

Ridged oer with many a drifted heap;

Rain by Peter Everwine : American Life in Poetry #278 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Peter Everwine is a California poet whose work I have admired for almost as long as I have been writing. Here he beautifully captures a quiet moment of reflection. Rain

Toward evening, as the light failed

Rhyme

© Sylvia Plath

I've got a stubborn goose whose gut's
Honeycombed with golden eggs,
Yet won't lay one.
She, addled in her goose-wit, struts
The barnyard like those taloned hags
Who ogle men

Report From The Besieged City

I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began
two hundred years ago in December in September perhaps yesterday at dawn
everyone here suffers from a loss of the sense of time

Righteous Anger

THE lanky hank of a she in the inn over there

Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer:

Road Report by Kurt Brown: American Life in Poetry #32 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Descriptions of landscape are common in poetry, but in “Road Report” Kurt Brown adds a twist by writing himself into “cowboy country.” He also energizes the poem by using words we associate with the American West: Mustang, cactus, Brahmas. Even his associations—such as comparing the crackling radio to a shattered rib—evoke a sense of place.