All Poems
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The Captain's Daughter
© James Thomas Fields
WE were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep,
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.
To the Left and Right
© Sukasah Syahdan
to the left and right
the fan shakes its head
to check if one's still awake
Last Nights Encounter
© Sukasah Syahdan
a)
last night's encounter
gave the little rat and me
a terrible blow
On Receiving A Book From "X.H."
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Oh, great-eyed contemplation whom I saw
Walk by the blue shores of the Northern Sea
Reunion
© Sukasah Syahdan
a)
this spirited assemblage
is a placid pilgrimage:
the girls and boys we were
Sonnet XXXIII
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
He that goes back does, since he goes, advance,
Though he doth not advance who goeth back,
Imminent Cullings
© Sukasah Syahdan
count your blessings little
ones--they can go further
than just hush us away!
To James T. Fields
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Well thought! who would not rather hear
The songs to Love and Friendship sung
Than those which move the stranger's tongue,
And feed his unselected ear?
The Wind Had Forgotten
© Sukasah Syahdan
the wind had forgotten
itself for some time
out of me I made one
Hark the sky-lark in the cloud
© Augusta Davies Webster
HARK the sky-lark in the cloud,
Hark the cricket in the grass,
Trilling blitheness clear and loud,
Chirping glee to all who pass.
Oh, the merry summer lay!
Earth and sky keep holiday.
A Petition
© Frances Anne Kemble
Lady, whom my beloved loves so well!
When on his clasping arm thy head reclineth,
When on thy lips his ardent kisses dwell,
And the bright flood of burning light that shineth
They Saw Again The Crocus Bloom
© Louisa May Alcott
They saw again the crocus bloom,
And, leaning from that lofty room,
The French Mariner
© Robert Bloomfield
An Old _French Mariner_ am I,
Whom Time hath render'd poor and gray;
Hear, conquering _Britons_, ere I die,
What anguish prompts me thus to say.
The Shopkeeper
© Sukasah Syahdan
the shopkeeper munched
on lifecrumbs after the last
customer's goodbye
An Ode To Mr. Howard
© Matthew Prior
Dear Howard, from the soft assaults of love
Poets and painters never are secure;
Can I untouch'd the fair one's passions move,
Or thou draw beauty, and not feel its power?
