Amy Lowell Poems on Light (51 Poems)

Towns in Colour (Amy Lowell Poems)

I Red Slippers Red slippers in a shop-window, and outside in the street, flaws of grey,windy sleet! Behind the polished glass, the slippers hang in long threads of red,festooning from the ceiling like stalactites of blood, flooding the eyesof passers-by … Continue reading →

Lilacs (Amy Lowell Poems)

Lilacs, False blue, White, Purple, Color of lilac, Your great puffs of flowers Are everywhere in this my New England. Among your heart-shaped leaves Orange orioles hop like music-box birds and sing Their little weak soft songs; In the crooks … Continue reading →

The Swans (Amy Lowell Poems)

The swans float and float Along the moat Around the Bishop’s garden, And the white clouds push Across a blue sky With edges that seem to draw in and harden. Two slim men of white bronze Beat each with … Continue reading →

Diya (Amy Lowell Poems)

Look, Dear, how bright the moonlight is to-night! See where it casts the shadow of that tree Far out upon the grass. And every gust Of light night wind comes laden with the scent Of opening flowers which never bloom … Continue reading →

In Excelsis (Amy Lowell Poems)

You — you — Your shadow is sunlight on a plate of silver; Your footsteps, the seeding-place of lilies; Your hands moving, a chime of bells across a windless air. The movement of your hands is the long, golden running … Continue reading →

Bath (Amy Lowell Poems)

The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and bores through the water in the bath-tub in lathes and … Continue reading →

On Carpaccio’s Picture (Amy Lowell Poems)

Swept, clean, and still, across the polished floor From some unshuttered casement, hid from sight, The level sunshine slants, its greater light Quenching the little lamp which pallid, poor, Flickering, unreplenished, at the door Has striven against darkness the long … Continue reading →

After Hearing a Waltz by Bartok (Amy Lowell Poem)

But why did I kill him? Why? Why? In the small, gilded room, near the stair? My ears rack and throb with his cry, And his eyes goggle under his hair, As my fingers sink into the fair White skin … Continue reading →

J–K. Huysmans (Amy Lowell Poem)

A flickering glimmer through a window-pane, A dim red glare through mud bespattered glass, Cleaving a path between blown walls of sleet Across uneven pavements sunk in slime To scatter and then quench itself in mist. And struggling, slipping, often … Continue reading →

The Bungler (Amy Lowell Poem)

You glow in my heart Like the flames of uncounted candles. But when I go to warm my hands, My clumsiness overturns the light, And then I stumble Against the tables and chairs. (Amy Lowell)