Time poems
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A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - April
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, I do choose the higher than my will.
A proper trewe idyll of camelot
© Eugene Field
Whenas ye plaisaunt Aperille shoures have washed and purged awaye
Ye poysons and ye rheums of earth to make a merrie May,
Ye shraddy boscage of ye woods ben full of birds that syng
Right merrilie a madrigal unto ye waking spring,
Ye whiles that when ye face of earth ben washed and wiped ycleane
Her peeping posies blink and stare like they had ben her een;
A drinking song
© Eugene Field
Come, brothers, share the fellowship
We celebrate to-night;
There's grace of song on every lip
And every heart is light!
Deola's Return
© Cesare Pavese
I'll turn round in the street and look at the passers-by,
I'll be a passer-by myself. I'll learn
Kiss
© Ruth Padel
He's gone. She can't believe it, can't go on. She's going to give up painting. So she paints Her final canvas, total-turn-off
Black. One long
Obsidian goodbye. A charcoal-burner's Smirnoff, The mirror of Loch Ness Reflecting the monster back to its own eye.
But something's wrong. Those mad Black-body particles don't sing Her story of despair, the steel and
Writing To Onegin
© Ruth Padel
(After Pushkin)
Look at the bare wood hand-waxed floor and long
White dressing-gown, the good child's writing-desk
And passionate cold feet
To The Small Celandine
© William Wordsworth
PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies,
Let them live upon their praises;
Long as there's a sun that sets,
Primroses will have their glory;
The Cricket
© Edwin Markham
Faintly the light breaks over the blowing oats
Sleep, little brother, sleep: I am astir.
We worship Song, and servants are of her
I in the bright hours, thou in shadow-time:
Lead thou the starlit night with merry notes,
And I will lead the clamoring day with rhyme.
Trial
© Ruth Padel
I was with Special Force, blue-X-ing raids
to OK surfing on the Colonel's birthday.
Operation Ariel: we sprayed Jimi Hendrix
loud from helis to frighten the slopes
before 'palming. A turkey shoot.
Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not
© George Gordon Byron
Remind me not, remind me not,
Of those beloved, those vanish'd hours,
When all my soul was given to thee;
Hours that may never be forgot,
Till Time unnerves our vital powers,
And thou and I shall cease to be.
The Garden Of Death
© Godfrey Mutiso Gorry
Weak but alive
dying yet still alive
huge eyes
round like golf balls
Rip Van Winkle. Canto II.
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
So Rip began to look at peopleâs tongues
And thump their briskets (called it âsound their lungs"),
Brushed up his knowledge smartly as he could,
Read in old Cullen and in Doctor Good.
The town was healthy; for a month or two
He gave the sexton little work to do.
The Coming Of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
Leodogran, the King of Cameliard,
Had one fair daughter, and none other child;
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,
Guinevere, and in her his one delight.
M'Fingal - Canto I
© John Trumbull
When Yankies, skill'd in martial rule,
First put the British troops to school;
Because My Faltering Feet
© Hilaire Belloc
Say it's the little winking of an eye
Which in that issue is uncurtained quite;
A little sleep that helpsa moment by
Between the thin dawn and the large daylight.
Ah! tell me more than yet was hoped of men;
Swear that's true now, and I'll believe it then.
A Spiritual Manifestation
© John Greenleaf Whittier
To-day the plant by Williams set
Its summer bloom discloses;
The wilding sweethrier of his prayers
Is crowned with cultured roses.
Love After Love
© Derek Walcott
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
A Pre-Existence
© Madison Julius Cawein
An intimation of some previous life,
Or dark dream, in the present dim-divined,
Of some uncertain sleep--or lived or dreamed
In some dead life--between a dusk and dawn;
