Weather poems
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Season of Quite
© Roddy Lumsden
With refreshments and some modesty and home-drawn maps,
the ladies of the parish are marshaling the plans in hand,
from Totem Poem [If every step taken is a step well-lived]
© Luke Davies
And if every step taken is a step well-lived but a foot
towards death, every pilgrimage a circle, every flight-path
I Am the Woman
© Gerard Malanga
I am the Woman, ark of the law and its breaker,
Who chastened her steps and taught her knees to be meek,
Bridled and bitted her heart and humbled her cheek,
Parcelled her will, and cried "Take more!" to the taker,
Shunned what they told her to shun, sought what they bade her seek,
Locked up her mouth from scornful speaking: now it is open to speak.
Homage to H & the Speedway Diner
© Bernadette Mayer
It’s alot like a cave full of pictures
& black & white checked flags
from A Moral Alphabet
© Hilaire Belloc
MORAL
If you were born to walk the ground,
Remain there; do not fool around.
from The Lady of the Lake: The Western Waves of Ebbing Day
© Sir Walter Scott
The western waves of ebbing day
Rolled o’er the glen their level way;
A Marriage Poem
© Ellen Bryant Voigt
What does it mean when a woman says,
“my husband,”
if she sits all day in the tub;
if she worries her life like a dog a rat;
if her husband seems familiar but abstract,
a bandaged hand she’s forgotten how to use.
Amoretti LXII: "The weary yeare his race now having run"
© Edmund Spenser
The weary yeare his race now having run,
The new begins his compast course anew:
Miriam Tazewell
© Pindar
When Miriam Tazewell heard the tempest bursting
And his wrathy whips across the sky drawn crackling
She stuffed her ears for fright like a young thing
And with heart full of the flowers took to weeping.
The Old Meeting House
© Alfred Noyes
(new jersey, 1918)
Its quiet graves were made for peace till Gabriel blows his horn.
Those wise old elms could hear no cry
Of all that distant agony
Only the red-winged blackbird, and the rustle of thick ripe corn.
from Totem Poem [In the yellow time of pollen]
© Luke Davies
In the yellow time of pollen, in the blue time of lilacs,
in the green that would balance on the wide green world,
You Also, Nightingale
© Reginald Shepherd
Petrarch dreams of pebbles
on the tongue, he loves me
at a distance, black polished stone
skipping the lake that swallows
The Caveman on the Train
© Daniel Nester
When first the apprizing eye and tongue that muttered
(Banished from Eden’s air? Or pride of apes?)
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (text of 1834)
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.
PART I
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
© André Breton
The child is father of the man;
And I could wish my days to be
There was an Old Person of Nice
© Edward Lear
There was an old person of Nice,
Whose associates were usually Geese.
They walked out together, in all sorts of weather.
That affable person of Nice!
Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl
© John Greenleaf Whittier
To the Memory of the Household It Describes
This Poem is Dedicated by the Author
Oft, in the Stilly Night (Scotch Air)
© Thomas Moore
Oft, in the stilly night,
Ere slumbers chain has bound me,
