Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
[month Of] April
The stranger warmth of the young sun obeying,Look! little beads of green begin to grow,And hidden flowers have dated their tops to showWhere late..
© Hilaire Belloc
[month Of) July
The Kings come riding back from the Crusade,The purple Kings and all their mounted men;They fill the street with clamorous cavalcade;The Kings have..
© Hilaire Belloc
January Drought
By Conor O'CallaghanIt needn’t be tinder, this juncture of the year, a cigarette second guessed from car to brush. The woods’ parchment is..
© New Year’s Day
A Pumpkin at New Year’s
By Sandra McPhersonHeads were rolling down the highway in high slat trucks. I knew it was time to buy you and found you,The last sphere unscarred..
© New Year’s Day
Grayed In
By Martha CollinsJanuary 20091Snow fallen, another goinggone, new come in, openthe door: each night I growyoung, my friends are..
© New Year’s Day
Year’s End Play Audio
By Richard WilburNow winter downs the dying of the year, And night is all a settlement of snow;From the soft street the rooms of houses show A..
© New Year’s Day
To the New Year
By W. S. MerwinWith what stillness at lastyou appear in the valleyyour first sunlight reaching downto touch the tips of a fewhigh leaves that do not..
© New Year’s Day
New Year's Poem
By Margaret AvisonThe Christmas twigs crispen and needles rattleAlong the window-ledge. A solitary pearlShed from the necklace spilled..
© New Year’s Day
Mild is the Parting Year
By Walter Savage LandorMild is the parting year, and sweetThe odour of the falling spray;Life passes on more rudely fleet,And balmless is its..
© New Year’s Day
After the Gentle Poet Kobayashi Issa
By Robert HassNew Year’s morning—everything is in blossom! I feel about average. A huge frog and I staring at each other, neither of..
© New Year’s Day
on new year’s eve
By Evie Shockley we make midnight a maquette of the year:frostlight glinting off snow to solemnize the vows we offer to ourselves in..
© New Year’s Day
Snowfall
By Ravi ShankarParticulate as ash, new year's first snow fallsupon peaked roofs, car hoods, undulant hills,in imitation of motion that moves the..
© New Year’s Day
December 31st
By Richard HoffmanAll my undone actions wandernaked across the calendar, a band of skinny hunter-gatherers,blown snow scattered here and..
© New Year’s Day
New Year’s Day
By Kim AddonizioThe rain this morning falls on the last of the snowand will wash it away. I can smell the grass again, and the torn leavesbeing..
© New Year’s Day
Burning the Old Year
By Naomi Shihab NyeLetters swallow themselves in seconds. Notes friends tied to the doorknob, transparent scarlet paper,sizzle like moth..
© New Year’s Day
Faustina, or Rock Roses
Tended by Faustinayes in a crazy houseupon a crazy bed,frail, of chipped enamel,blooming above her headinto four vaguely..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Crusoe in England
A new volcano has erupted,the papers say, and last week I was readingwhere some ship saw an island being born:at first a breath of steam, ten miles..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Suicide Of A Moderate Dictator
This is a day when truths will out, perhaps;leak from the dangling telephone earphonessapping the festooned switchboards' strength;fall from the..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Intimate, Low-Voiced, Delicate Things
It is marvellous to wake up togetherAt the same minute; marvellous to hearThe rain begin suddenly all over the roof,To feel the air suddenly clearAs..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Songs For A Colored Singer
IA washing hangs upon the line,but it's not mine.None of the things that I can seebelong to me.The neighbors got a radio with an aerial;we got a..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Strayed Crab
This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It mustbe over that way somewhere.I am the color of wine, of tinta. The inside of my..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Squatter's Children
On the unbreathing sides of hillsthey play, a specklike girl and boy,alone, but near a specklike house.The Sun's suspended eyeblinks casually, and..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Manuelzinho
[Brazil. A friend of the writer is speaking.]Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)—a sort of inheritance; white,in your thirties now, and supposedto..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Sonnet (1979)
Caught -- the bubblein the spirit level,a creature divided;and the compass needlewobbling and wavering,undecided.Freed -- the brokenthermometer's..
© Elizabeth Bishop
Sonnet (1928)
I am in need of music that would flowOver my fretful, feeling finger-tips,Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,With melody, deep, clear, and..
© Elizabeth Bishop