Venison
We chat of fat venison,
of that mother the other table took.
We sin and so fall sick.
I sent my wife a pewter rose,
a venison pasty—
so much cold joy we fall sick.
Cheerful poems
Cheerful poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
In/formal
I talk with my dog
where I talk to the king:
privately.
Between home and bed.
Gifts
A strange providence got me
much trouble in mind,
some cheese and a patent
on ignorant talk,
a wife and a house,
great doings of music
and a bit of bread and butter
after I was a-bed.
Palm Tree
The palm is
a navy of
the afternoon,
a sign from Holland,
a temple
to a hen.
The Lasting Supper
A chapel for Chance,
with organ and singing
and a sermon like a supper by proxy,
persuading me while at supper
to supper after supper.
Scrivener
A clerk’s place:
I raise an ox of paper
off my writing.
Ranter
I rant. My mouth must have
some good Latin to flaunt,
like a monk in the palace
coming to look after his mind.
Resonant
My body gives me joy,
as if I were a swan or a fish.
A song or two
in my chamber in the dark,
now that the bed is out,
sound very well.
New Stockings
Love is like hose here
on Little Queen Street
to a vain and simple lieutenant
with a mind full of lace.
Solar Flair
The upholsterer came
to take furniture for the sun:
a half moon, the king’s worn door
and a silk clock.
Philanthropist
With the dog to see some poor children
in tawny clothes sing.
I give them five pieces in gold,
a sound lesson upon the flag
and a silver can of ham three stories high.
Peacenik
I commission the navy:
get a dolphin drunk
and marry her
in place of war.
Resolve again to see
home and bed.
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