Poems begining by S
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Silent Music by Floyd Skloot: American Life in Poetry #94 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
While many of the poems we feature in this column are written in open forms, that's not to say I don't respect good writing done in traditional meter and rhyme. But a number of contemporary poets, knowing how a rigid attachment to form can take charge of the writing and drag the poet along behind, will choose, say, the traditional villanelle form, then relax its restraints through the use of broken rhythm and inexact rhymes. I'd guess that if I weren't talking about it, you might not notice, reading this poem by Floyd Skloot, that you were reading a sonnet.
Silent Music
Sonnet V. To the River Tweed.
© William Lisle Bowles
O TWEED! a stranger, that with wand'ring feet
O'er hill and dale has journey'd many a mile,
Song
© George MacDonald
Thou art no such dove-cot
Of virtues-no such chart
Of highways, though the dart
Of love be through thee shot!
Why should she not love not
Thee, poor, pinched, selfish heart?
Sonnet 10: Reason
© Sir Philip Sidney
Reason, in faith thou art well serv'd, that still
Wouldst brabbling be with sense and love in me:
I rather wish'd thee climb the Muses' hill,
Or reach the fruit of Nature's choicest tree,
Sicilian Emigrants Song
© William Carlos Williams
Oehlee! Lala!
Donna! Donna!
Blue is the sky of Palermo;
Blue is the little bay;
Snow
© Archibald Lampman
White are the far-off plains, and white
The fading forests grow;
The wind dies out along the height,
And denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree,
Falls down scarce audibly.
Saturday Evening
© John Newton
Safely through another week,
God has brought us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek,
On th' approaching Sabbath-day:
Day of all the week the best,
Emblem of eternal rest.
SONNET. Dry those fair, those chrystal eyes
© Henry King
Dry those fair, those chrystal eyes
Which like growing fountains rise
To drown their banks. Griefs sullen brooks
Would better flow in furrow'd looks.
St. Valentine's Day
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
TO-DAY, all day, I rode upon the down,
With hounds and horsemen, a brave company
Satisfied With Life
© Edgar Albert Guest
I have known the green trees and the skies overhead
And the blossoms of spring and the fragrance they shed;
I have known the blue sea, and the mountains afar
And the song of the pines and the light of a star;
And should I pass now, I could say with a smile
That my pilgrimage here has been well worth my while.
Stable by Claudia Emerson Andrews: American Life in Poetry #26 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
Descriptive poetry depends for its effects in part upon the vividness of details. Here the Virginia poet, Claudia Emerson, describes the type of old building all of us have seen but may not have stopped to look at carefully. And thoughtfully.
Stable
Sonnet LXXXIII. The Sea View
© Charlotte Turner Smith
THE upland shepherd, as reclined he lies
On the soft turf that clothes the mountain brow,
Marks the bright sea-line mingling with the skies;
Or from his course celestial, sinking slow,
Spartan Mothers
© Alfred Austin
``One more embrace! Then, o'er the main,
And nobly play the soldier's part!''
Song. The Smile
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
LET others love the pearly tear,
The blushing cheek adorning;
And say, 'tis like the dew-drop clear,
That gems the rose of morning.
Somebody Spoke A Cheering Word
© Edgar Albert Guest
SOMEBODY spoke a cheering word,
Somebody praised his labor,
Sonnet LXX: On Being Cautioned Against Walking on an Headland Overlooking the Sea, Because It Was Fr
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Is there a solitary wretch who hies
To the tall cliff, with starting pace or slow,
Sweet are His ways who rules above
© Jean Ingelow
Sweet are His ways who rules above,
He gives from wrath a sheltering place;
But covert none is found from grace,
Man shall not hide himself from love.
