All Poems
/ page 2401 of 3210 /Love's Messengers.
© Robert Crawford
He came from her, and though rough and uncouth,
It seemed her tenderness breathed out of him
As he re-worded her sweet sentences.
Even as a stony place, clothed with sweet flowers,
The Expatriates
© Anne Sexton
My dear, it was a moment
to clutch for a moment
so that you may believe in it
and believing is the act of love, I think,
even in the telling, wherever it went.
A Minuet Of Mozart's
© Sara Teasdale
Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And glimmered gold against the gloom.
The Fury Of Earth
© Anne Sexton
The day of fire is coming, the thrush,
will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket,
the beetle will sink like a giant bulldozer,
and at the breaking of the morning the houses
The Stand-Ins
© Anne Sexton
In the dream
the swastika is neon
and flashes like a strobe light
into my eyes, all colors,
The Pixy and the Grocer
© Hans Christian Andersen
How bright the room seemed! It was as if a ray of light came from the book, a luminous tree whose branches spread out across the ceiling. The leaves were fresh and green and on each branch flowers bloomed and fruit hung. The flowers were faces of young maidens, some with radiant dark eyes and other(s) with clear blue ones. The fruits were sparkling stars. All the while the most beautiful music could be heard.
……………….
The Fury Of Cooks
© Anne Sexton
Herbs, garlic,
cheese, please let me in!
Souffles, salad,
Parker House rolls,
The Missionary - Canto Eighth
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh, shout for Lautaro, the young and the brave!
The arm of whose strength was uplifted to save,
When the steeds of the strangers came rushing amain,
And the ghosts of our fathers looked down on the slain!
Earlier Poems : Hymn Of The Moravian Nuns Of Bethlehem
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Take thy banner! and if e'er
Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier,
And the muffled drum should beat
To the tread of mournful feet,
Then this crimson flag shall be
Martial cloak and shroud for thee."
For Johnny Pole On The Forgotten Beach
© Anne Sexton
In his tenth July some instinct
taught him to arm the waiting wave,
a giant where its mouth hung open.
He rode on the lip that buoyed him there
Ghost Glen
© Henry Kendall
"Shut your ears, stranger, or turn from Ghost Glen now,
For the paths are grown over, untrodden by men now;
Shut your ears, stranger," saith the grey mother, crooning
Her sorcery runic, when sets the half-moon in.
The Firebombers
© Anne Sexton
We are America.
We are the coffin fillers.
We are the grocers of death.
We pack them in crates like cauliflowers.
The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts
© Anne Sexton
She's the one I carried my bones to
and built a house that was just a cot
and built a life that was over an hour
and built a castle where no one lives
and built, in the end, a song
to go with the ceremony.
The Coal-Fire
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
1.
COME, we 'll light the parlor fire;
Winter sets in sharp and rough.
Wood is dear, but coal's provided,
The Fury Of Sundays
© Anne Sexton
Moist, moist,
the heat leaking through the hinges,
sun baking the roof like a pie
and I and thou and she
Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall
© Anne Sexton
Oh down at the tavern
the children are singing
around their round table
and around me still.
The Toy-Strewn Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
Give me the house where the toys are strewn,
Where the dolls are asleep in the chairs,
Hornet
© Anne Sexton
A red-hot needle
hangs out of him, he steers by it
as if it were a rudder, he
would get in the house any way he could