Poems begining by S
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Severer Service of myself
© Emily Dickinson
Severer Service of myself
I -- hastened to demand
To fill the awful Vacuum
Your life had left behind --
Sang from the Heart, Sire,
© Emily Dickinson
Sang from the Heart, Sire,
Dipped my Beak in it,
If the Tune drip too much
Have a tint too Red
Sexton! My Master's sleeping here.
© Emily Dickinson
Sexton! My Master's sleeping here.
Pray lead me to his bed!
I came to build the Bird's nest,
And sow the Early seed --
So has a Daisy vanished
© Emily Dickinson
So has a Daisy vanished
From the fields today --
So tiptoed many a slipper
To Paradise away --
She sweeps with many-colored Brooms
© Emily Dickinson
She sweeps with many-colored Brooms --
And leaves the Shreds behind --
Oh Housewife in the Evening West --
Come back, and dust the Pond!
She died -- this was the way she died.
© Emily Dickinson
She died -- this was the way she died.
And when her breath was done
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Sleep is supposed to be
© Emily Dickinson
Sleep is supposed to be
By souls of sanity
The shutting of the eye.
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers
© Emily Dickinson
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers --
Untouched my Morning
And untouched by Noon --
Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection --
Rafter of satin,
And Roof of stone.
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church
© Emily Dickinson
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church --
I keep it, staying at Home --
With a Bobolink for a Chorister --
And an Orchard, for a Dome --
Snow flakes.
© Emily Dickinson
Snow flakes.I counted till they danced so
Their slippers leaped the town,
And then I took a pencil
To note the rebels down.
"Sic transit gloria mundi"
© Emily Dickinson
"Sic transit gloria mundi,"
"How doth the busy bee,"
"Dum vivimus vivamus,"
I stay mine enemy!
Success is counted sweetest
© Emily Dickinson
Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Summer Dawn
© Spike Milligan
My sleeping children are still flying dreams
in their goose-down heads.
The lush of the river singing morning songs
Fish watch their ceilings turn sun-white.
Song
© Margaret Widdemer
The Spring will come when the year turns,
As if no Winter had been,
But what shall I do with a locked heart
That lets no new year in?
Scotland's Winter
© Edwin Muir
Now the ice lays its smooth claws on the sill,
The sun looks from the hill
Helmed in his winter casket,
And sweeps his arctic sword across the sky.
Scotland 1941
© Edwin Muir
We were a tribe, a family, a people.
Wallace and Bruce guard now a painted field,
And all may read the folio of our fable,
Peruse the sword, the sceptre and the shield.
Supplication
© Constantine Cavafy
The sea took a sailor to its depths.--
His mother, unsuspecting, goes and lightsa tall candle before the Virgin Mary
for his speedy return and for fine weather --and always she turns her ear to the wind.
But while she prays and implores,the icon listens, solemn and sad,
So Much I Gazed
© Constantine Cavafy
So much I gazed on beauty,
that my vision is replete with it.Contours of the body. Red lips. Voluptuous limbs.
Hair as if taken from greek statues;
always beautiful, even when uncombed,
Since Nine O'Clock
© Constantine Cavafy
Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
whom could I talk to?
