WHEN in the west the red sun sank in glory,
The cypress trees stood up like gold, fine gold;
The mother told her little child the story
Of the gold trees the heavenly gardens hold.

Possessions

© Ken Smith

They spent my life plotting against me.
With nothing to do but cultivate themselves,
but to be there, aligning their shadows,
they were planning to undo me,
wanting to own me completely.

Her Eyes

© Madison Julius Cawein

In her dark eyes dreams poetize;
The soul sits lost in love:
There is no thing in all the skies,
To gladden all the world I prize,
Like the deep love in her dark eyes,
Or one sweet dream thereof.

The Two Nests

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

The wise thrush, the wise thrush, she choseth well her tree,

Made her nest in the laurel's leafy shade.

Cliff Swallows-Missouri Breaks by Debra Nystrom: American Life in Poetry #29 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet L

Many of you have seen flocks of birds or schools of minnows acting as if they were guided by a common intelligence, turning together, stopping together. Here is a poem by Debra Nystrom that beautifully describes a flight of swallows returning to their nests, acting as if they were of one mind. Notice how she extends the description to comment on the way human behavior differs from that of the birds.

Cliff Swallows
-Missouri Breaks

And So To-Day

© Carl Sandburg

And so to-day--they lay him away--
the boy nobody knows the name of--
the buck private--the unknown soldier--
the doughboy who dug under and died
when they told him to--that's him.

Limerick: There was an Old Person of Hurst

© Edward Lear

There was an Old Person of Hurst,
Who drank when he was not athirst;
When they said, 'You'll grw fatter,'
He answered, 'What matter?'
That globular Person of Hurst.

A Sonnet (Two Voices Are There)

© James Kenneth Stephen

Two voices are there: one is of the deep;

It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody,

The Nights Remember

© Sara Teasdale

THE days remember and the nights remember
The kingly hours that once you made so great,
Deep in my heart they lie, hidden in their splendor,
Buried like sovereigns in their robes of state.

The Climate Of Danger

© Weldon Kees

The middle is the place to stand

If there can be one solid spot,

Happiness

My sailing boat, crafted of redwood, is swift,

My flute is carved out of jasper.

Saturday Night Song At Sea

Come fill the can again, boys,

One parting glass, one parting glass;

Here They Trysted, And Here They Strayed

Here they trysted, here they strayed,

In the leafage dewy and boon,

To Alexander H. Stephens

Through thy frail form, there burn divinely strong
The antique virtues of a worthier day;
Thy soul is golden, if thy head be gray,
No years can work that lofty nature wrong;
They set to concords of ethereal song
A life grown holier on its heavenward way.

Le Roi Est Mort. Vive Le Roi!

Why wait for Arthur? He too long has slept.
He shall not hear you--no, nor heed your moan,
More than the wail of those fair Queens that kept
Their watch for him what months in Avalon!