Concentration
Think: let blood
go to ink, ivy in
the evening sing
our house to bed.
Poems on the topic: evening
Poems on the topic “evening” on Poets.by.
At sunset
packing up glass
to send into the country—
an amber evening
Sun Shines Brightly
The evening was full of surprises.
Sunshine had a brighter, merrier tinge
Streets were full of decent men
And every woman looked beautiful.
Signals turned green at my very sight
Youngsters gave way, most obliging.
The fishmonger gave a couple free
The coffee tasted so good.
At the corner shop, I read out
A letter in English
To the unlettered worker
Who listened joyfully, as I told him
His daughter will be home for X’mas.
Passing, slowly, I saw me
In the glass panes -
A happy, smiling, me.
The Freedom of the Moon
I’ve tried the new moon tilted in the air
Above a hazy tree-and-farmhouse cluster
As you might try a jewel in your hair.
I’ve tried it fine with little breadth of lustre,
Alone, or in one ornament combining
With one first-water star almost as shining.
I put it shining anywhere I please.
By walking slowly on some evening later,
I’ve pulled it from a crate of crooked trees,
And brought it over glossy water, greater,
And dropped it in, and seen the image wallow,
The color run, all sorts of wonder follow.
Flower-Gathering
I left you in the morning,
And in the morning glow,
You walked a way beside me
To make me sad to go.
Do you know me in the gloaming,
Gaunt and dusty grey with roaming?
Are you dumb because you know me not,
Or dumb because you know?
All for me? And not a question
For the faded flowers gay
That could take me from beside you
For the ages of a day?
They are yours, and be the measure
Of their worth for you to treasure,
The measure of the little while
That I’ve been long away.
Hokku 65
I turned my face not to see
Flowers or leaves;
'Tis the autumn eve
With the falling light.
How solitary the cottage stands
By the sea!
Hokku 11
At eve,
By a grass-made hut,
The winds pass on.
Saying something to the rice-plant leaves.
I am knocking at the door of Life, —
Is nobody in?
Nocturne
I have grown pale and paler
Since one went away,
Who passed from me as softly
As daylight leaves the day.
My hair has lost its gleaming,
The light has left my face,
I am a grey-eyed wanderer
In any lonely place.
And on my heart is moonlight
Like white rain on the sea.
And I am of the evening
As the evening is of me.
A gentle moan, remembrance,
A folded wing is love,
Since my dream stepped into shadow
On the soft feet of a dove.
Infanta Marina
Her terrace was the sand
And the palms and the twilight.
She made of the motions of her wrist
The grandiose gestures
Of her thought.
The rumpling of the plumes
Of this creature of the evening
Came to be sleights of sails
Over the sea.
And thus she roamed
In the roamings of her fan,
Partaking of the sea,
And of the evening,
As they flowed around
And uttered their subsiding sound.
Dusk in June
Evening, and all the birds
In a chorus of shimmering sound
Are easing their hearts of joy
For miles around.
The air is blue and sweet,
The few first stars are white,--
Oh let me like the birds
Sing before night.
The Song for Colin
I sang a song at dusking time
Beneath the evening star,
And Terence left his latest rhyme
To answer from afar.
Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
And sighed, "She sings for me."
But Colin slept a careless sleep
Beneath an apple tree.
Evening: New York
Blue dust of evening over my city,
Over the ocean of roofs and the tall towers
Where the window-lights, myriads and myriads,
Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.
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