The end (Dimitris P. Kraniotis Poem)
The savour of fruits still remains in my mouth, but the bitterness of words demolishes the clouds and wrings the ...
The savour of fruits still remains in my mouth, but the bitterness of words demolishes the clouds and wrings the ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. "THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG." INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book ...
It was the pleasant season yet, When the stones at cottage doors Dry quickly, while the roads are wet, After ...
[This song was intended to be introduced in a dramatic poem entitled Mahomet, the plan of which was not carried ...
(For D. C. T., Killed at Fricourt, March, 1916) Yet once an earlier David took Smooth pebbles from the brook: ...
The beach different not coarse sand of rocky outcroppings smooth stones glistening at the water's edge Polished smooth contours not ...
Walking by the sea throwing smooth washed pebbles as far as I can. So I feel, adding my words the ...
Maybe the metaphor shouldn't be pebbles thrown into the pond; maybe the more apt analogy the hope, and the trepidation ...
A rock thrown in the pond, full force, or maybe, just maybe, thousands of pebbles, hurled, dropped, even gently coaxed ...
under a rock a cityscape hidden from view roads, side streets, and big highways between the entrances to their homes ...
I'll tell you the tale of an old country pub As fancied itself up to date, It had the word ...
I don't feel at home where I am, or where I spend time; only where, beyond counting, there's freedom and ...
is what we called her. The story was that her father had thrown Drano at her which was probably true, ...
A dear old couple my grandparents were, And kind to all dumb things; they saw in Heaven The lamb that ...
She walks as lightly as the fly Skates on the water in July. To hear her moving petticoat For me ...
Amber husk fluted with gold, fruit on the sand marked with a rich grain, treasure spilled near the shrub-pines to ...
I cannot count the pebbles in the brook. Well hath He spoken: "Swear not by thy head. Thou knowest not ...
Each small gleam was a voice, A lantern voice -- In little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold. A chorus ...
I can scare children as the Victorians aimed to do even on an August beach tell a fairy tale one ...
... Among the shadows of the groaning elms, amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves ... ... Once there were ...
Through waning afternoons we glide the watery peripheries of love. A silence, a quietude falls. Above us--the sagging pavilions of ...
I watch the man bend over his patch, a fat gunny sack at his feet. He combs the earth with ...
With one consuming roar along the shingle The long wave claws and rakes the pebbles down To where its backwash ...
ADVERTISEMENT "The grand army of the Turks, (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour: At the ...
We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee, As théou, Léove, were the déep thought And ...
Far from the Rappahannock, the silent Danube moves along toward the sea. The brown and green Nile rolls slowly Like ...
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