Women poems

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Now Pontius Pilate is to judge the CauseOf faultlesse Jesus, who before him stands;Who neither hath offended Prince, nor Lawes,Although he now be brought in woefull bands:O noble Governour, make thou yet a pause,Doe not in innocent blood imbrue thy hands; But heare the words of thy most worthy wife, Who sends to thee, to beg her Sauiours life

Haenyo Song: Harvest

© L'Abbé Sonnet

We cull the island's most spectacular fields.

The Obstructionist

© Knox Edmund George Valpy

She was not built upon a beauteous plan; I did not like her face or features much,The lady who was talking to the man Behind the little hutch.

McAndrew's Hymn

© Rudyard Kipling

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,An', taught by time, I tak' it so--exceptin' always Steam

Flint and Feather

© Emily Pauline Johnson

Ojistoh1.2Of him whose name breathes bravery and life1.3And courage to the tribe that calls him chief.1.4I am Ojistoh, his white star, and he1.5Is land, and lake, and sky--and soul to me.

Orchids

© Hyde Robin

Orchids, it was, she liked

The Wreck of the Deutschland (Dec. 6, 7, 1875)

© Gerard Manley Hopkins

[[A-text]]to the happy memory of five Francisan nuns,exiles by the Falck Laws, drowned betweenmidnight & morning of December 7 [[1875]].

Why do I feel guilty in the lingerie department at The Bay

© Holbrook Susan

After all, I'm a woman, I'm old enough to look casual in here, I'm in my prime, in fact: why not try on a few things, discuss sizes and wires with the clerk like it's nothing, a bit of a chore even, like shopping for sneakers

Luby's Cafeteria, Killeen, Tx

© Hamilton Jane Eaton

Pachelbel’s Canon

© Greene Richard

Is there a word or the fading of a noteas it leaves the string and nothing follows

Ye Wearie Wayfarer Hys Ballad. Fytte 5. Lex Talionis

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

And if there's blood upon his hand,'Tis but the blood of deer. -- W. Scott.

To the Young Wife

© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins

Are you content, you pretty three-years' wife? Are you content and satisfied to live On what your loving husband loves to give, And give to him your life?

To The Indifferent Women

© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins

You who are happy in a thousand homes,Or overworked therein, to a dumb peace;Whose souls are wholly centered in the lifeOf that small group you personally love;Who told you that you need not know or careAbout the sin and sorrow of the world?

Do you believe the sorrow of the worldDoes not concern you in your little homes? --That you are licensed to avoid the careAnd toil for human progress, human peace,And the enlargement of our power of loveUntil it covers every field of life?

The one first duty of all human lifeIs to promote the progress of the worldIn righteousness, in wisdom, truth and love;And you ignore it, hidden in your homes,Content to keep them in uncertain peace,Content to leave all else without your care

More Females of the Species

© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins

When the traveller in the pasture meets the he-bull in his pride,He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside;But the milch cow, thus accosted, pins the traveller to the rail

Gascoigne's Lullaby

Sing lullaby, as women do,Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;And lullaby can I sing to,As womanly as can the best

City of Huge Buildings

City of huge buildings into which men have poured their souls,City of innumerable schools where little children are taught and cared for,City of the great University, discussing solemn and learned questions,City of well-dressed, beautiful women, sleek, satisfied, sure of their clothes and of themselves,And their husbands sleek and satisfied also:I, a common prostitute, in the wan morning buying cocaine,Ask you the meaning of it all

The Women of the West

They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,The houses in the busy streets where life is never still,The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best:For love they faced the wilderness -- the Women of the West

Twicknam Garden

© John Donne

Blasted with sighs, and surrounded with tears, Hither I come to seek the spring, And at mine eyes, and at mine ears,Receive such balms as else cure every thing; But oh, self-traitor, I do bringThe spider love, which transubstantiates all, And can convert manna to gall,And that this place may thoroughly be thoughtTrue paradise, I have the serpent brought