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A Poet on a Magical Journey Home
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A dozen poems
For todayA version friendly to printer and palmtop
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The Desolate City, by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
DARK to me is the earth. Dark to me are the heavens.
Where is she that I loved, the woman with eyes like stars?
Desolate are the streets. Desolate is the city.
A city taken by storm, where none are left but the slain.
Sadly I rose at dawn, undid the latch of my shutters,
Haiku, by Michael Rehling
crucified
on a cold gray sky
a single bird
March, by Alexander B. McNair
No other month
Is welcomed more than thee:
The furious blast
That hurries past
Is but the winter freed.
Philomela, by Sir Philip Sidney
THE Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth
Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,
While late-bare Earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,
Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making;
And mournfully bewailing,
My Childhood Home I See Again, by Abraham Lincoln
I
My childhood's home I see again,
And sadden with the view;
And still, as memory crowds my brain,
There's pleasure in it too.
At Cape Schanck, by James Lister Cuthbertson
Down to the lighthouse pillar
The rolling woodland comes,
Gay with the gold of she-oaks
And the green of the stunted gums,
With the silver-grey of honeysuckle,
The Kings, by Louise Imogen Guiney
A man said unto his Angel:
"My spirits are fallen low,
And I cannot carry this battle:
O brother! where might I go?
"The terrible Kings are on me
A Ballade of Wattle Blossom, by Robert Richardson
There's a land that is happy and fair,
Set gem-like in halcyon seas;
The white winters visit not there,
To sadden its blossoming leas,
More bland than the Hesperides,
A Quiet Soul, by John Oldham
THY soul within such silent pomp did keep,
As if humanity were lull'd asleep;
So gentle was thy pilgrimage beneath,
Time's unheard feet scarce make less noise,
Or the soft journey which a planet goes:
The Reconcilement, by John Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire
COME, let us now resolve at last
To live and love in quiet;
We'll tie the knot so very fast
That Time shall ne'er untie it.
The truest joys they seldom prove
Choice, by Angela Morgan
I'd rather have the thought of you
To hold against my heart,
My spirit to be taught of you
With west winds blowing,
Than all the warm caresses
A Metal That Was Never Mine, by Ma.Francia Concepcion M. Jagong
You are the love I've been searching for so long
Everytime I see you,you're like music that heals my soul
You're a one-in-a-million book I'd like to read and understand
You're like the universe,to explore you is what I want
But you are like the cloud I cannot hug
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