Everyone grumbled. The sky was grey.
We had nothing to do and nothing to say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
...
Once upon a time a frog
Croaked away in Bingle Bog
Every night from dusk to dawn
He croaked awn and awn and awn
...
In the pond in the park
all things are doubled:
Long buildings hang and
wriggle gently. Chimneys
...
Waking in the night;
the lamp is low,
the oil freezing.
...
There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks,
and outside a large green bus swerves through traffic like
insanity sprung from a waving line; Turgenev, Turgenev,
says the radio, and Jane Austin, Jane Austin, too.
...
Overcast but warm,
The day dry, unusually.
Walking the woods with the dogs
As many times before.
...
O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond,
have you forgotten the little chile, like the birds that have
nested in your branches and left you?
Do you not remember how he sat at the window and wondered at
...
A walk in the park is a pleasure to do,
When a visit to one is long overdue,
To take the dogs too, is really great,
For the exercise is just first rate.
...
I knew that James Whistler was part of the Paris scene,
but I was still surprised when I found the painting
of his mother at the Musée d'Orsay
among all the colored dots and mobile brushstrokes
...
Three ducks pecked around
In a garden one warm day
They wore beautiful coats
Of white feathers to display
...
The railway rattled and roared and swung
With jolting and bumping trucks.
The sun, like a billiard red ball, hung
In the Western sky: and the tireless tongue
...
I hear some one calling me from deep,
it is not the footstep heard in sound sleep,
but yes a deep call and sound familiar,
Neither shout from liar nor it from cavalier,
...
Child of my winter, born
When the new fallen soldiers froze
In Asia's steep ravines and fouled the snows,
When I was torn
...
China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,
Till a little child of the Yang clan, hardly even grown,
Bred in an inner chamber, with no one knowing her,
...
To the Memory of the Household It Describes
This Poem is Dedicated by the Author:
"As the Spirits of Darkness be stronger in the dark, so Good Spirits,which be Angels of Light, are augmented not only by the Divine lightof the Sun, but also by our common Wood Fire: and as the CelestialFire drives away dark spirits, so also this our Fire of Wood doth thesame." -- Cor. Agrippa, Occult Philosophy,
...
When I woke, the town spoke.
Birds and clocks and cross bells
Dinned aside the coiling crowd,
...
"I do not like to go to bed,"
Sleepy little Harry said;
"Go, naughty Betty, go away,
I will not come at all, I say! "
...
(To E.M., Who drew them in Holzminden Prison)
I
...
Ducks bobbing on the water--
are they also, tonight,
hoping to get lucky?
...
Four ducks on a pond,
A grass-bank beyond,
A blue sky of spring,
White clouds on the wing;
...
I long to go over there to the further bank of the river.
Where those boats are tied to the bamboo poles in a line;
Where men cross over in their boats in the morning with
ploughs on their shoulders to till their far-away fields;
...
Let me be at the place of the castle.
Let the castle be within me.
Let it rise foursquare from the moat's ring.
Let the moat's waters reflect green plumage of ducks, let
...
Who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know.
Clasping her pitcher to her waist mother went to fetch water
from the village near by.
It was noon. The children's playtime was over; the ducks in
...
HERE, while the Thracian bard's enchanting strain
Sooths beasts, and woods, and all the listn'ing
plain,
The female Bacchanals, devoutly mad,
...
Trees in groves,
Kine in droves,
In ocean sport the scaly herds,
Wedge-like cleave the air the birds,
...
THROUGH my north window, in the wintry weather,--
My airy oriel on the river shore,--
I watch the sea-fowl as they flock together
Where late the boatman flashed his dripping oar.
...
.
.
Out on a walk beside the wide and mighty Columbia River-
friendly hellos from fellow walkers, runners and bikers- -
...
From his shoulder Hiawatha
Took the camera of rosewood,
Made of sliding, folding rosewood;
Neatly put it all together.
...
HIGH EXPLOSIVE by A.B. "Banjo" Paterson
'Twas the dingo pup to his dam that said,
...
The London lights are far abeam
Behind a bank of cloud,
Along the shore the gaslights gleam,
The gale is piping loud;
...
Over the green and yellow rice-fields
sweep the shadows of the autumn
clouds followed by the swift-chasing
sun.
...
I saw within the wheelwright’s shed
The big round cartwheels, blue and red;
A plough with blunted share;
A blue tin jug; a broken chair;
...
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
She wasn't dressed proper, you know.
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
So that her humps wouldn't show.
...
The water hyacinth
floats with flotsam and refuse
goes along so smooth
...
of ice. Deceptively reserved and flat,
it lies 'in grandeur and in mass'
beneath a sea of shifting snow-dunes;
...
They are buffeting out in the bitter grey weather,
-Blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!-
...
Long ago in a poultry yard
One dull November morn,
Beneath a motherly soft wing
A little goose was born.
...
beneath cloudy sky
ducks are splashing in the lake
silence is broken
...
The snow is gone from cottage tops
The thatch moss glows in brighter green
And eves in quick succession drops
Where grinning ides once hath been
...
Here in Prescott, cottonwoods,
are scarlet from the fall;
in stately groves they rise,
as big as they are tall.
...
When amatory poets sing their loves
In liquid lines mellifluously bland,
And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves,
They little think what mischief is in hand;
...
New Year's morning:
the ducks on the pond
quack and quack.
...
WARM, wild, rainy wind, blowing fitfully,
Stirring dreamy breakers on the slumberous May sea,
What shall fail to answer thee? What thing shall withstand
The spell of thine enchantment, flowing over sea and land?
...
Four ducks on a pond,
A grass-bank beyond,
A blue sky of spring,
White clouds on the wing;
...
40-acre growth found in Michigan.
— The Los Angeles Times
...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall.
...
Far above us where a jay
Screams his matins to the day,
Capped with gold and amethyst,
Like a vapor from the forge
...
When humans retreated into their houses,
The birds decided to come out of their nests,
The peacocks came out of their green thickets,
To walk so gracefully into the open grounds,
...
Wunst, 'way West in Illinoise,
Wuz two Bears an' their two boys:
An' the two boys' names, you know,
Wuz--like _ours_ is,--Jim an' Jo;
...
King and Queen of the Pelicans we;
No other Birds so grand we see!
None but we have feet like fins!
With lovely leathery throats and chins!
...
Now what in the name of the sun and the stars
Is the meaning of this most unholy of wars?
...
One pearly day in early May I walked upon the sand
And saw, say half a mile away, a man with gun in hand.
A dog was cowering to his will as slow he sought to creep
Upon a dozen ducks so still they seemed to be asleep.
...
Will you walk with me to the brow of the hill, to visit the farmer's wife,
Whose daughter lies in the churchyard now, eased of the ache of life?
...
I do not count the hours I spend
In wandering by the sea;
The forest is my loyal friend,
Like God it useth me.
...
this earliest dutch morn
i heard birds flying above
sorry, no birds at all
i think they must be ducks
...
This male phoenix has returned to his old home,
from roaming the four seas searching for his mate.
Time was not yet ripe, there was no way to meet her;
then what a surprise: this evening I come up to this hall,
...
A beautiful smile, on the soft gentle lips
Is enough to blow anybody's heart.
Innocent mind posing so many questions
Heart floating swiftly like ducks swimming
...
Awake and feel this is first hour,
Every creature has pure power.
Flowers spread fragrance for us,
We have to realize life again thus.
...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
...
Oh 'twas a poor country, in Autumn it was bare,
The only green was the cutting grass and the sheep found little there.
Oh, the thin wheat and the brown oats were never two foot high,
But down in the poor country no pauper was I.
...
The forest ended. Glad I was
To feel the light, and hear the hum
Of bees, and smell the drying grass
And the sweet mint, because I had come
...
'I DO not like to go to bed,'
Sleepy little Harry said;
'Go, naughty Betty, go away,
I will not come at all, I say! '
...
There came a whisper down the Bland between the dawn and dark,
Above the tossing of the pines, above the river's flow;
It stirred the boughs of giant gums and stalwart iron-bark;
It drifted where the wild ducks played amid the swamps below;
...
The field was dotted with them,
Hay bales stacked high on high
With field mice and shrews making hay
Running and playing between the bales
...
Soon as the twilight through the distant mist
In silver hemmings skirts the purple east,
Ere yet the sun unveils his smiles to view
...
Wandering by the river's edge,
I love to rustle through the sedge
And through the woods of reed to tear
Almost as high as bushes are.
...
The mind is a city like London,
Smoky and populous: it is a capital
...
The cat runs races with her tail. The dog
Leaps oer the orchard hedge and knarls the grass.
The swine run round and grunt and play with straw,
...
We’re marching for animal rights.
We have the right to fight.
Remember to hold you banners high
As if they were going to touch the sky.
...
Round clouds roll in the arms of the wind,
The round earth rolls in a clasp of blue sky,
And see, where the budding hazels are thinned,
The wild anemones lie
...
Freshly risen sun has shown face,
Swimming this is in sky's chest,
Swimming this is in water's chest,
No rest, no rest, this is swimming,
...
There lived, as authors tell, in days of yore,
A widow, somewhat old, and very poor;
Deep in a dale her cottage lonely stood,
...
Dusk shall soon overtake the pale blue sky & the sun shall 'set'.
Since I submitted NO December showcase, you now shall GET....
....a January showcase in TWO PARTS, with poems I've favored....
....here on P-H and now share with YOU....so they may be savored...
...
Matchless in breeding and beauty,
a fine lady has taken refuge
in this forsaken valley.
...
Nature now spreads around in dreary hue
A pall to cover all that summer knew
Yet in the poets solitary way
...
What a day to dismantle a roller-coaster.
Well, they are taking it down--
the tracks are all over the ground
and the ties drawn up. The ticket office
...
There lived an old man in the kingdom of Tess,
Who invented a purely original dress;
And when it was perfectly made and complete,
...
The scenery of Baldovan
Is most lovely to see,
Near by Dighty Water,
Not far from Dundee.
...
The joggers running around the lake
Looked as if they were about to give birth.
They say no pain no gain but they were
Obviously stressed out to say the least.
...
We are pure water-bird, we are ducks,
Before sunset we have come back
Towards our home, sweet home
We are marching with prayer to God,
...
A group of wild ducks
Paddling on tree-lined river
A hunter captures the scene.
...
Far up the River-hark! 'tls the loud shock
Deadened by distance, of some Fowler's gun:
And as into the stillness of the scene
...
'Peter the 'Ermit was a 'oly bloke,'
The parson sez, 'wot chivvied coves to war.'
'Too right,' I chips. 'I've 'eard that yarn before.'
'Brave knights sprung straight to arms where'er 'e spoke.'
...
In Firestone where oak meets pine
A woodland that is so divine,
Its pathway crazed and strewn with cone
The ground is dry and hard as stone,
...
At evening watches the duck
slow feeding the waterline.
Praises the duck. Such a fine
...
Around the lake the trees surround
Reflections on the water shine,
And deepest blue the autumn sky
A picture that is so divine,
...
Why, Grubbinol, dost thou so wistful seem?
There's sorrow in thy look, if right I deem.
...
Mid-morning. Monday. College campus.
Spring semester done.
Few are here
with all its trees, bushes, flowers
...
The London lights are far abeam
Behind a bank of cloud,
Along the shore the gaslights gleam,
The gale is piping loud;
...
The sails hang dead, or they lift and flap like a cornfield scarecrow's coat,
And the seabirds swim abreast of us like ducks that play, a-float,
...
The offer never ceases to be
tho i strike it down relentlessly
...
Often, during my nature walks,
Around lakes and parks,
I stop and stand to watch,
The swans, ducks and geese,
...
Pass unseen through a godforsaken floodplain,
city of treachery, siege and publishers.
No backbone here at all, nothing to fight,
or with. All sunken in unmerciful decay.
...
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
where wave pretends to drench real sky.'
...
Yet to the wondrous St. Peter's, and yet to the solemn Rotunda,
Mingling with heroes and gods, yet to the Vatican Walls,
Yet may we go, and recline, while a whole mighty world seems above us,
Gathered and fixed to all time into one roofing supreme;
...
I heard the sighing of the reed
In the grey pool in the green land,
The sea-wind in the long reeds sighing
Between the green hill and the sand.
...
To write a poem
without preparation,
without really thinking
about it.
...
We walked alongside one another
and did not talk
Went past a pond filled with lotus
and saw the swimming ducks
...