The Pawky Duke (David Rorie Poems)
There aince was a very pawky duke,Far kent for his joukery-pawkery,Wha owned a hoose wi' a gran' outlook,A gairden an' ...
There aince was a very pawky duke,Far kent for his joukery-pawkery,Wha owned a hoose wi' a gran' outlook,A gairden an' ...
Pete bristles when the doorbell rings. Last night he didn't act the same.Dogs have a way of knowin' things, An' ...
The hoof-beats sound, the harness clacks and clinks, The wagon rattles in the frosty air Along the level prairie road ...
Green, how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. The ship out on the sea and the horse on ...
the iris stood tall and straight the blossom peaking from the skin of leaves still hidden mostly behind green its ...
A burst of pink, or a little purple in a field of shades of green a bee oasis a camera ...
Early morning (or very late night) Carbon and ink eraser, with the bristles Before Whiteout The Corona clacked away Her ...
A fall sky in slumber warming fan brush strokes, horsehair bristles, pushed across the fall tableau Deep burgundies and dark ...
The mountain held the town as in a shadow I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
The pig is taught by sermons and epistles To think the God of Swine has snout and bristles. (Ambrose Bierce)
All those times I was bored out of my mind. Holding the log while he sawed it. Holding the string ...
FROM those drear solitudes and frowsy cells, Where Infamy with sad Repentance dwells; Where turnkeys make the jealous portal fast, ...
I bought a new broom today and swept the cobwebs down, A thick accumulation of dregs, a mass of tangles ...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round, At Camelot, high above the ...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round, At Camelot, high above the ...
Five hours, (and who can do it less in?) By haughty Celia spent in dressing; The goddess from her chamber ...
Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan Of tan with henna hackles, halt! Damned universal cock, as if the sun Was ...
Now the autumn maize is growing, Now the corn-cob fills, Where the Little River flowing Winds among the hills. Over ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
Take this quiet woman, she has been standing before a polishing wheel for over three hours, and she lacks twenty ...
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