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| Search results for: p | Found 8786 Poems |
| 1321. | Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing by Margaret Atwood | | The world is full of women
who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself
if they had the chance. Quit dancing.
Get some self-respect
and a day job.
... |
| 1322. | Backdropp Addresses Cowboy by Margaret Atwood | | Starspangled cowboy
sauntering out of the almost-
silly West, on your face
a porcelain grin,
tugging a papier-mache cactus
on wheels behind y... |
| 1323. | The City Planners by Margaret Atwood | | Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the sanities:
the houses in pedantic rows, the planted
sanit... |
| 1324. | Provisions by Margaret Atwood | | What should we have taken
with us? We never could decide
on that; or what to wear,
or at what time of
year we should make the journey
So here w... |
| 1325. | Uphill by Christina Rossetti | | DOES the road wind uphill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend... |
| 1326. | Promises Like Pie-Crust by Christina Rossetti | | Promise me no promises,
So will I not promise you:
Keep we both our liberties,
Never false and never true:
Let us hold the die uncast,
Free to co... |
| 1327. | Sleeping at last by Christina Rossetti | | Sleeping at last, the trouble and tumult over,
Sleeping at last, the struggle and horror past,
Cold and white, out of sight of friend and of lover... |
| 1328. | An Apple-Gathering by Christina Rossetti | | I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple tree
And wore them all that evening in my hair:
Then in due season when I went to see
I found no apples the... |
| 1329. | Before The Paling Of The Stars by Christina Rossetti | | Before the winter morn,
Before the earliest cock crow,
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable,
Cradled in a manger,
In the world his hands had m... |
| 1330. | Passing away, saith the World by Christina Rossetti | | Passing away, saith the World, passing away:
Chances, beauty and youth, sapp'd day by day:
Thy life never continueth in one stay.
Is the eye waxen ... |
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