Poems begining by S

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Song of the Wave XVII

© Khalil Gibran

I steal swiftly from behind the
Blue horizon to cast the silver of
My foam upon the gold of his sand, and
We blend in melted brilliance.

Song of the Flower XXIII

© Khalil Gibran

At dawn I unite with the breeze
To announce the coming of light;
At eventide I join the birds
In bidding the light farewell.

Song of Man XXV

© Khalil Gibran

I was here from the moment of the
Beginning, and here I am still. And
I shall remain here until the end
Of the world, for there is no
Ending to my grief-stricken being.

Song of Love XXIV

© Khalil Gibran

I am the lover's eyes, and the spirit's
Wine, and the heart's nourishment.
I am a rose. My heart opens at dawn and
The virgin kisses me and places me
Upon her breast.

Song of Fortune VI

© Khalil Gibran

I call for him with the voice of
Knowledge and the song of Wisdom.
He does not hearken, for Substance
Has enticed him into the dungeon
Of selfishness, where avarice dwells.

Self-Knowledge XVII

© Khalil Gibran

And a man said, "Speak to us of Self-Knowledge."

Sonnet 5: It Is Most True

© Sir Philip Sidney

It is most true, that eyes are form'd to serve
The inward light; and that the heavenly part
Ought to be king, from whose rules who do swerve,
Rebles to Nature, strive for their own smart.

My mouth, perhaps, may learn one thing too well,
My body hear no echo save its own,
Yet will the desperate mind, maddened and proud,
Seek out the storm, escape the bitter spell
That we obey, strain to the wind, be thrown
Straight to its freedom in the thunderous cloud

Song For The Last Act

© Louise Bogan

Now that I have your face by heart, I look
Less at its features than its darkening frame
Where quince and melon, yellow as young flame,
Lie with quilled dahlias and the shepherd's crook.

Self-Criticism In February

© Robinson Jeffers

The bay is not blue but sombre yellow

With wrack from the battered valley, it is speckled with violent

Scarlet Flowers

© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

A tired shop girl hurries by;
Their color seems to catch her eye;
She pauses, starts, and wistfully
She gazes up. It seems to me
That I can hear her longing sigh. . . .
A little shop girl hurries by.

Sweeping the Backyard Garden

© Sukasah Syahdan

heatbeats of fallen flowers
breaths of leaves decaying
they aren't dead--just transforming

Sakal Bun

© Amir Khusro

Sakal bun (or Saghan bhun) phool rahi sarson,
Sakal bun phool rahi.....
Umbva phutay, tesu phulay, koyal bolay daar daar,
Aur gori karat singaar,

Sonnet XXXIII

© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa

He that goes back does, since he goes, advance,

Though he doth not advance who goeth back,

Some Day

SOME day our eyes will brighten, and some day our hearts will lighten,

Some day the sun will shine for you and me;

Such a Pristine Dawn!

such a pristine dawn!
that distant muezzin
should not test my patience

Sonnet V. (Translated From Milton)

Lady! It cannot be, but that thine eyes

Must be my sun, such radiance they display

Sunset In Autumn

Blood-coloured oaks, that stand against a sky of gold and brass;
Gaunt slopes, on which the bleak leaves glow of brier and sassafras,
And broom-sedge strips of smoky pink and pearl-gray clumps of grass,
In which, beneath the ragged sky, the rain-pools gleam like glass.

Songs Of The Imprisoned Naiad

"WOE! woe is me! the centuries pass away,
The mortal seasons run their ceaseless rounds,
While here I wither for the sunbright day,
Its genial sights and sounds.
Woe! woe is me!

Sorry

Please forgive us should You find this insolent
Or see no tears we shed after the latest trick of Yours
But writhing inside, we have been guessing the motive
Eeach time one disaster rallies against another;