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 ...
But why did I kill him? Why? Why? In the small, gilded room, near the stair? My ears rack and ...
A bullet through his heart at dawn. On the table a letter signed with a woman's name. A wind that ...
I Hoops Blue and pink sashes, Criss-cross shoes, Minna and Stella run out into the garden To play at hoop. ...
Bath The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The ...
I touch you in the night, whose gift was you, My careless sprawler, And I touch you cold, unstirring, star-bemused, ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
YES, write, if you want to, there's nothing like trying; Who knows what a treasure your casket may hold? I'll ...
(i) introduction his home in ruins his parents gone frederick seeks to reclaim his throne to the golden mountain he ...
With short, sharp violent lights made vivid, To the southward far as the sight can roam, Only the swirl of ...
The man held his hands to his heart as he danced. He slacked and swirled. The doorways of the little ...
Over a dock railing, I watch the minnows, thousands, swirl themselves, each a minuscule muscle, but also, without the way ...
To the table we come, young and old, slowly, tentatively, spritely, quickly standing, kneeling, as we are able coming forward ...
in the touch of my daughters' fingers in the brush of our cats' fur in the swirl of leaves falling ...
Like canary dandruff, no, make that yellow pepper, freshly ground and served at your table a dust, large grained, adorning ...
A watched pot, beginning to boil growing bubbles in the dimples the Teflon surface called to the ball, to dance, ...
Wet dull brown oak leaves red maple, yellow birch, fell in showers, amidst the big secondary rain drops under the ...
Two pitchers, two bowls Two pair of hands of the pastor and the proconsul Metaphorical markers of a life well ...
Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived ...
Come to the pane, draw the curtain apart, There she is passing, the girl of my heart; See where she ...
Botticelli grinned with egg tempera congealed at the hinge of his lips Velasquez licked shine from an aubergine blackened in ...
SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a three-legged crow on the ...
The sweet juices of your mouth are like castles bathed in honey. I've never had it done so gently before. ...
Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? And the tedding and the bedding Of the straw ...
I turn the page and read: "I dream of silent verses where the rhyme Glides noiseless as an oar." The ...
WHEN biting Boreas, fell and dour, Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r; When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r, Far south ...
'TWAS 1 in that place o' Scotland's isle, That bears the name o' auld King Coil, Upon a bonie day ...
There came a whisper down the Bland between the dawn and dark, Above the tossing of the pines, above the ...
to Robert Hass and in memory of Elliot Gilbert Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn, Bashõ and his friends ...
Here at the Super Duper, in a glass tank Supplied by a rill of cold fresh water Running down a ...
Since I don't know who will be reading this or even if it will be read, I must invent someone ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories