Proverbial (4)
Knock on a clock, owe an owl.
A sage and an owl meet where a light is out.
Never was a house pleased with the arms that hang there.
We die in fear, not for mirth’s sake.
Poems on the topic: house
Poems on the topic “house” on Poets.by.
Joinery
The master joiner agreed about
the many pretty pleasures
in a glass house.
Since he was married to drink,
we parted, I home
to my paper bed.
Broken Home
Home, where I
brought home with me
all the house—
a sad geography, thinking
to have found a home
but not being home—
gone somewhere else
as angry.
Selective Memory
This morning at home, looking over
the remains of our past:
where did I patch the house,
where did I paper?
Which Garden
Which garden do I have
as my place, which disown?
I took hate
home with me
but found no joy in it—
the many factions, the ire.
Between two houses,
the common sun.
I found my old lack: me.
Front Gate
Black with ivy,
my heart is a gate,
shut since I found my wife.
I let it go to him
that shall hire my house.
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.
Birthday of Desire
The birthday of desire.
My wife offered me a true horse
and I had great pleasure in riding:
a house built high with two sticks,
a bonfire of guns.
We go off for the same joy
and return for trouble.
Household
Together in the round house
we were merry and good-natured;
alone, a melancholy violin
called me to supper.
The Muffin Man
I rose early to barber
the moss of the wood,
took a house
in Drury Lane
and ate toasted cakes
which were very crisp.
Traveler
who ever had less
than the same innocence
as the wise?
she keeps house
where the day rooms
out in the bare-legged corn
Surveillance
inching over the house like a staircase
the crow spent the morning
looking in on us
and our paper
our melancholy milk
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