Weather poems
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To Various Persons Talked To All At Once
© Kenneth Koch
You have helped hold me together.
I'd like you to be still.
Stop talking or doing anything else for a minute.
No. Please. For three minutes, maybe five minutes.
The Boiling Water
© Kenneth Koch
A serious moment for the
telephone is when it rings.
And a person answers, it is
Angelica, or is it you.
On Receipt Of My Mother's Picture
© William Cowper
Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thine--thy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me;
To Live
© Paul Eluard
I have lived several times my face hasw changed
With every threshold I have crossed and every hand clasped Familial springtime was reborn
Keeping for itself and for me its perishable snow
Death and the betrothed
The future with five fingers clenched and letting go
Sonnet LXII
© Edmund Spenser
THe weary yeare his race now hauing run,
The new begins his compast course anew:
with shew of morning mylde he hath begun,
betokening peace and plenty to ensew,
Sonnet LIX
© Edmund Spenser
THrise happie she, that is so well assured
Vnto her selfe and setled so in hart:
that nether will for better be allured,
ne feard with worse to any chaunce to start,
Fable
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel,
And the former called the latter, "little prig":
Bun replied,
From The Long Sad Party
© Mark Strand
Someone was saying
something about shadows covering the field, about
how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning
and the morning goes.
The Story Of Our Lives
© Mark Strand
1
We are reading the story of our lives
which takes place in a room.
The room looks out on a street.
Song of the Artesian Water
© Andrew Barton Paterson
Now the stock have started dying, for the Lord has sent a drought;
But we're sick of prayers and Providence -- we're going to do without;
With the derricks up above us and the solid earth below,
We are waiting at the lever for the word to let her go.
Song of the Future
© Andrew Barton Paterson
"I care for nothing, good nor bad,
My hopes are gone, my pleasures fled,
I am but sifting sand," he said:
What wonder Gordon's songs were sad!
A Motor Courtship
© Andrew Barton Paterson
Into her presence he gaily pranced,
A very fat spark, and a bit advanced.
With a Samson tread on the earth he trod,
He was stayed and gaitered, and fifty odd.
Poppies On Ludlow Castle
© Willa Cather
THROUGH halls of vanished pleasure,
And hold of vanished power,
And crypt of faith forgotten,
A came to Ludlow tower.
Colloquy
© Weldon Kees
In the broken light, in owl weather,
Webs on the lawn where the leaves end,
I took the thin moon and the sky for cover
To pick the cat's brains and descend
I Come Home Wanting To Touch Everyone
© Stephen Dunn
The dogs greet me, I descend
into their world of fur and tongues
and then my wife and I embrace
as if we'd just closed the door
Neruda's Hat
© Kelli Russell Agodon
On a day when weather stole every breeze,
Pablo told her he kept bits of his poems
tucked behind the band in his hat.
A Country Life
© Randall Jarrell
A bird that I don't know,
Hunched on his light-pole like a scarecrow,
Looks sideways out into the wheat
The wind waves under the waves of heat.
Wind in the Beechwood
© Siegfried Sassoon
O luminous and lovely! Let your flowers,
Your ageless-squadroned wings, your surge and gleam,
Drown me in quivering brightness: let me fade
In the warm, rustling music of the hours
That guard your ancient wisdom, till my dream
Moves with the chant and whisper of the glade.
Wonderment
© Siegfried Sassoon
Then a wind blew;
And he who had forgot he moved
Lonely amid the green and silver morning weather,
Suddenly grew
Arcady Unheeding
© Siegfried Sassoon
Shepherds go whistling on their way
In the spring season of the year;
One watches weather-signs of day;
One of his maid most dear
