August (Nancy Byrd Turner Poems)
Oh, such a funny August house-- It really was like a zoo, For animals roamed in all the rooms (Even a kangaroo); Such sociable, ...
Oh, such a funny August house-- It really was like a zoo, For animals roamed in all the rooms (Even a kangaroo); Such sociable, ...
The smell of snow, stinging in nostrils as the wind lifts it from a beachEve-shuttering, mixed with sand, or when ...
Little Birds are diningWarily and well,Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waitersGorgeous in their gaiters-I've a Tale to ...
When real Blessings are to Men deny'd,With airy Hopes they gratify their Pride;To every Wretch this Privilege extends,However void of ...
The moon is in the sky, and the stars are shining too,The summer-night is calm, and the sea is very ...
HE feigned a fine indifference To be so prodigal of light, Knowing his piteous twisted things Would lose the crooked marks of spite When ...
Felicity the healer isn't youngAnd you don't look him up unless you need him.Clown's eyes, Pope's nose, a mouth for ...
O ponder well, ye serving Maids, The doleful Tale I sing: Learn how disastrous 'tis to wear Too high your ...
I.Beneath the vans of doom did men pass in.Heroic who came out; for round them hungA wavering phantom's red volcano ...
Some said it was a shooting star,Some said it was a pheasant;It was the most surprising thingTo villager and peasant.To ...
You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced, Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea, Gulping salt-water everlastingly, Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be ...
THROUGH my north window, in the wintry weather,-- My airy oriel on the river shore,-- I watch the sea-fowl as ...
There are certain things -a spider, a ghost, The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three - That I hate, but ...
There are certain things--as, a spider, a ghost, The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three-- That I hate, but the ...
Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June, Dawdling away their wat'ry noon) Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, Each secret fishy ...
(Time, Noon.) HUMPHREY: See'st thou not William that the scorching Sun By this time half his daily race has run? ...
Weary and listless, sad and slow, Without any conversation, Was a man that worked on The Overflow, The butt of ...
She wore little teeth of pearls around her neck. They were grinning politely and evenly at me. Unsuitable they smirked. ...
These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis. They grew their toes and fingers well enough, Their little foreheads ...
O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud, Then when the Dragon, ...
I. Sunrise. In my sleep I was fain of their fellowship, fain Of the live-oak, the marsh, and the main. ...
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