Poems begining by S
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Spring In The Alps
© Mathilde Blind
The Sunlight, leaping from the Heights,
Flames o'er the fields of May,
Winged with unnumbered swallow-flights
Fresh from the long sea way;
Song
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Tho' veiled in spires of myrtle-wreath,
Love is a sword that cuts its sheath,
And thro' the clefts, itself has made,
We spy the flashes of the Blade !
Sream Travel
© John Kenyon
Who hath not longed, by converse fired or book,
To break him sudden from his own home-nook,
Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 06 - Spring
© Kalidasa
"Oh, dear, with the just unfolded tender leaflets of Mango trees as his incisive arrows, and with shining strings of honeybees as his bowstring, the assailant named Vasanta came very nigh, to afflict the hearts of those that are fully engaged in affairs of lovemaking…
"Oh, dear, in Vasanta, Spring, trees are with flowers and waters are with lotuses, hence the breezes are agreeably fragrant with the fragrance of those flowers, thereby the eventides are comfortable and even the daytimes are pleasant with those fragrant breezes, thereby the women are with concupiscence, thus everything is highly pleasing…
Sunset: St. Louis
© Sara Teasdale
HUSHED in the smoky haze of summer sunset,
When I came home again from far-off places,
How many times I saw my western city
Dream by her river.
Speechis a prank of Parliament
© Emily Dickinson
"Speech"is a prank of Parliament
"Tears"is a trick of the nerve
But the Heart with the heaviest freight on
Doesn'talwaysmove
Shakespeare's Festival
© Katharine Lee Bates
WHILE we keep our Poet's Tercentennial,
Every school and city with its emulous
Sonnet Of Motherhood XXVII
© Zora Bernice May Cross
Dearest, as much as I, you breathe in pain,
Breeding yourselfyour very soul from me
By look and sign, soft word and action strong,
And all you longed for in its form regain.
I am a humble haven where we three,
Father and child and mother, make a song.
Stellas Birth-Day.1719-20
© Jonathan Swift
All travellers at first incline
Where'er they see the fairest sign
Song II
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Oh roses for the flush of youth,
And laurel for the perfect prime;
But pluck an ivy branch for me
Grown old before my time.
Song Of The Gray Stallion
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
My dam was a mustang white and proud,
My sire was as black as a thunder cloud;
Similes For Two Political Characters of 1819
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
As from an ancestral oak
Two empty ravens sound their clarion,
Yell by yell, and croak by croak,
When they scent the noonday smoke
Of fresh human carrion:--
Sonnet V.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled
To see thee, poor old man! and thy gray hairs
Hoar with the snowy blast; while no one cares
To clothe thy shrivelled limbs and palsied head.
Salomes Lament
© Arthur Symons
Why did I have thee slain? Herodias' desire,
John; yea, I loved thee! They made me at the feast
Songs Set To Music: 28. Nelly.
© Matthew Prior
Whilst others proclaim
This nymph or that swain,
Dearest Nelly the lovely I'll sing:
She shall grace every verse,
I'll her beauties rehearse,
Which lovers can't think an ill thing.
Summer Dreams
© Edgar Albert Guest
Drowsy old summer, with nothing to do,
I'd like to be drowsin' an' dreamin' with you;
Santa Paula by Lee McCarthy: American Life in Poetry #148 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I've written about the pleasures of poetry that offers us vivid scenes but which lets us draw our own conclusions about the implications of what we're being shown. The poet can steer us a little by the selection of details, but a lot of the effect of the poem is in what is not said, in what we deduce. Lee McCarthy is a California poet, and here is something seen from across the street, something quite ordinary yet packed with life.
