Tag Archives: Poetry

Cradle Song What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till thy little wings are stronger. So she rests a ...

Yes Thou Art Gone Yes, thou art gone! and never more Thy sunny smile shall gladden me; But I may pass the old church door, And pace the floor that covers thee, May stand upon the cold, damp stone, And ...

Snow Day Today we woke up to a revolution of snow, its white flag waving over everything, the landscape vanished, not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness, and beyond these windows the government buildings smothered, schools and libraries buried, ...

A Woman’s Shortcomings She has laughed as softly as if she sighed, She has counted six, and over, Of a purse well filled, and a heart well tried – Oh, each a worthy lover! They “give her time”; for her ...

You and You TO THE AMERICAN PRIVATE IN THE GREAT WAR Every one of you won the war— You and you and you— Each one knowing what it was for, And what was his job to do. Every one of ...

Sonnet Written In Holy Week At Genoa I WANDERED in Scoglietto’s green retreat, The oranges on each o’erhanging spray Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day; Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleet Made snow of ...

With the Tide Somewhere I read, in an old book whose name Is gone from me, I read that when the days Of a man are counted, and his business done, There comes up the shore at evening, with the ...

Marjorie’s Wooing THE corn was yellow upon the cliffs, The fluttering grass was green to see, The waves were blue as the sky above, And the sun it was shining merrily. ‘Marjorie, Marjorie! do you love me, Faithfully, truly as ...

By The Fireside : The Open Window The old house by the lindens Stood silent in the shade, And on the gravelled pathway The light and shadow played. I saw the nursery windows Wide open to the air; But the ...

Sonnet To Liberty NOT that I love thy children, whose dull eyes See nothing save their own unlovely woe, Whose minds know nothing, nothing care to know,– But that the roar of thy Democracies, Thy reigns of Terror, thy great ...

Weep Not Too Much Weep not too much, my darling; Sigh not too oft for me; Say not the face of Nature Has lost its charm for thee. I have enough of anguish In my own breast alone; Thou canst ...

De Profundis Oh, is it, then, Utopian To hope that I may meet a man Who’ll not relate, in accents suave, The tales of girls he used to have? Dorothy Parker

  Humanism The definition of humanism is too complicated And as diverse as the universe But to me it is to disbelieve Rather than to have a belief upon Ideas and notions which lower my dignity And curtail my freedom ...

Let Somebody Else Rest By Southern Sea Let somebody else rest by southern sea, Enjoying the paradise land, It’s northerly here, and fall of this year, I chose to be my girl-friend. I’ve carried here the memory sure Of my ...

  Apologies for living on I am living on because providing apologies is easy once— i was making choices with insanely safe ideas of fleeing-madly-and-flying-away i was a helpless girl against the brutal world of bottom-patting-and-breast-pinching i was craving for ...

  A Sunset I love the evenings, passionless and fair, I love the evens, Whether old manor-fronts their ray with golden fulgence leavens, In numerous leafage bosomed close; Whether the mist in reefs of fire extend its reaches sheer, Or ...

  Views of Life When sinks my heart in hopeless gloom, And life can shew no joy for me; And I behold a yawning tomb, Where bowers and palaces should be; In vain you talk of morbid dreams; In vain ...

  Border I’m going to move ahead. Behind me my whole family is calling, My child is pulling my sari-end, My husband stands blocking the door, But I will go. There’s nothing ahead but a river. I will cross. I ...

Magnetism   By the impulse of my will, By the red flame in my blood, By me nerves’ electric thrill, By the passion of my mood, My concentrated desire, My undying, desperate love, I ignore Fate, I defy her, Iron-hearted ...

Daylight Saving My answers are inadequate To those demanding day and date And ever set a tiny shock Through strangers asking what’s o’clock; Whose days are spent in whittling rhyme- What’s time to her, or she to Time?   Dorothy ...