THE HAG (Robert Herrick Poem)
The Hag is astride, This night for to ride, The devil and she together; Through thick and through thin, Now ...
Poems about bramble (31 Poems)
Domicilium (Thomas Hardy Poem)
It faces west, and round the back and sides High beeches, bending, hang a veil of boughs, And sweep against ...
bird of fire – a caution (Rg Gregory Poem)
the dream of the white bird flying offers a freedom as tasty as nectar how our lips purse to the ...
the adventures (from frederick and the enchantress – dance drama) (Rg Gregory Poem)
(i) introduction his home in ruins his parents gone frederick seeks to reclaim his throne to the golden mountain he ...
Frost on the Fields (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Frost on the fields draped on the weeds the milkweed, the bramble the vines, the reeds casting shadows in the ...
Out in the bramble (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Down the dusty, dirt road out in the bramble the fragrant moments of summer the fruit in its season Climbing ...
Purple Blue Asters (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
The pure color, shining back at me set against the yellow center purple blue asters the urgent, erect petals swaying ...
Primrose Berries (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
above the bramble at the edge of the wood wet, morning, brilliant the cranberry, the color drawing my eyes Primrose ...
A Burgundy Bramble (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
A vine, a burgundy bramble blackberry bushes, tall, in the fall sun shiny burgundy, yellow, green leaves standing tall, as ...
A Burgundy Bramble (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
A vine, a burgundy bramble blackberry bushes, tall, in the fall sun shiny burgundy, yellow, green leaves standing tall, as ...
Scraps of Memories (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Little bits of memories, most over forty years old bouncing up against one another spilling into my present consciousness a ...
Deep in the Woods (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
The words of the doctor, he is, we are, "still deep in the woods" A long way from the safety ...
Crouched in the blackberry bramble (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Surrounded by prickers, thorns tugging on my coat, my jeans lowering myself to the dark small fruit gathering in, berry ...
A walk by the edge of the wood (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
at the edge of the field the brink of the wood grass yields to rougher plants plants of the brush, ...
Barrington (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Land in the rough By design and by tradition. A sense of place. Stone wall and lake and meadow Wood ...
Pencil #2 (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Lead and wood Fused for a purpose Life changes In blackened ovals Shading, within the lines Fear, struggle. Am I ...
No Hothouse Rose (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
No hothouse rose Is She No even color or clipped thorns No controlled bloom can She be She is a ...
People Call Me Tony (The Fatal Dive lament) (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Anthony, Oh Anthony Why didn't you pass the test At the wheel Crash, "not exactly" Red stuff on the water ...
Pillows of snow (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Pillows of light, white snow Atop the raspberry bramble At the back of the yard The edge of the wild ...
In the Bramble (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
In the bramble at the edge of the lawn Before the woods, Where pillows of snow perched in winter Green ...
The LORD and the BRAMBLE (Anne Kingsmill Finch Poem)
To view his stately Walks and Groves, A Man of Pow'r and Place Was hast'ning on; but as he roves, ...
Day’s End (Tu Fu Poems)
Oxen and sheep were brought back down Long ago, and bramble gates closed. Over Mountains and rivers, far from my ...
Four Quartets 2: East Coker (T. S. Eliot Poem)
I In my beginning is my end. In succession Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended, Are removed, destroyed, restored, ...
Through lane it lay — through bramble (Emily Dickinson Poem)
Through lane it lay -- through bramble -- Through clearing and through wood -- Banditti often passed us Upon the ...
A prayer to the Wind (Thomas Carew Poem)
Go thou gentle whispering wind, Bear this sigh; and if thou find Where my cruel fair doth rest, Cast it ...
A Hermit Thrush (Amy Clampitt Poem)
Nothing's certain. Crossing, on this longest day, the low-tide-uncovered isthmus, scrambling up the scree-slope of what at high tide will ...
May (John Clare Poem)
Come queen of months in company Wi all thy merry minstrelsy The restless cuckoo absent long And twittering swallows chimney ...
The Nightingale’s Nest (John Clare Poems)
Up this green woodland-ride let's softly rove, And list the nightingale- she dwells just here. Hush ! let the wood-gate ...
Remembrances (John Clare Poem)
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh ...