Trust poems
/ page 82 of 157 /
temporising with the eternal
© Rg Gregory
i dont know what youre up to
yet but for me
you wouldnt exist
(not on this page anyway -
A Story Of Doom: Book VI.
© Jean Ingelow
"Now to-day
One cometh, yea, an harmless man, a fool,
Who boasts he hath a message from our God,
And lest that you, for bravery of heart
And stoutness, being angered with his prate,
Should lift a hand, and kill him, I am here."
from the Ansty Experience
© Rg Gregory
(a)
they seek to celebrate the word
not to bring their knives out on a poem
dissecting it to find a heart
peach-power
© Rg Gregory
peaches exude this thrall -
reminders of those luscious
whereabouts that lips
best find their precious sips
to cry let this be all
a readers de profundis
© Rg Gregory
in my reading of the moment i have learned
the figure next to christ in da vincis last supper
(a painting i have actually seen in a milan church
fragilely restored) is a woman an honour earned
by mary magdalene who (according to research)
turns out to be christs wife hang on what a whopper
The Grave
© Robert Blair
While some affect the sun, and some the shade,
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying through life;the task be mine,
The Fiddling Wood
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Gods, what a black, fierce day! The clouds were iron,
Wrenched to strange, rugged shapes; the red sun winked
Over the rough crest of the hairy wood
In angry scorn; the grey road twisted, kinked,
Like a sick serpent, seeming to environ
The trees with magic. All the wood was still --
We Need A Few More Optimists
© Edgar Albert Guest
We need a few more optimists,
The kind that double up their fists
Epitaph on her Son H. P.
© Katherine Philips
WHat on Earth deserves our trust ?
Youth and Beauty both are dust.
Long we gathering are with pain,
What one moment calls again.
In Memory of F.P.
© Katherine Philips
If I could ever write a lasting verse,
It should be laid, deare Sainte, upon thy herse.
But Sorrow is no muse, and doth confesse
That it least can what most it would expresse.
Unshriven
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Oh! the sun rose on the lea, and the bird sang merrilie,
And the steed stood ready harness'd in the hall,
And he left his lady's bower, and he sought the eastern tower,
And he lifted cloak and weapon from the wall.
The Death Of Grant
© Ambrose Bierce
Father! whose hard and cruel law
Is part of thy compassion's plan,
Thy works presumptuously we scan
For what the prophets say they saw.
Sonnet II
© George Gascoigne
Before mine eye, to feed my greedy will,
'Gan muster eke mine old acquainted mates,
The Tearful Tale Of Captain Dan
© Ellis Parker Butler
A sinner was old Captain Dan;
His wives guv him no rest:
He had one wife to East Skiddaw
And one to Skiddaw West.
Hymn To Death
© William Cullen Bryant
Oh! could I hope the wise and pure in heart
Might hear my song without a frown, nor deem
On The Death Of Rev. Mr. George Whitefield
© Phillis Wheatley
HAIL, happy saint, on thine immortal throne,
Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown;
We hear no more the music of thy tongue,
Thy wonted auditories cease to throng.
