The floating world
We sat with
our hats and
our paying hips,
our glad work
that will please
poor seamen,
glad we sat in
bed in strange
weather—all
this winter,
dust and flies
and rose-
bushes full
of leaves.
Poems on the topic: rose
Poems on the topic “rose” on Poets.by.
Anarchist’s dream
I long for a black rose
in every hand,
fierce men that ride
without stopping,
a quiet study filled
with good books.
The gospel of wealth
O tell me to come, leave
the key of the chest
with the surgeon.
Live plentifully and love
good things. Let the virginal
thorn pierce the rose.
Laying plans
a rose on ice
the children go away
to school tomorrow
Rosa canina
this jealousy
a hundred hips
on the rose
Rained-on
Wet with rain,
the rose sat and drank
till night took it.
Retreat
My private bone, my chance heart,
my Walden in a wardrobe, my rose—
all night we lay
in one green bed.
By any other name
This rose at her door
called me to know her,
the day very pleasant,
though the way bad
and I a newborn,
my head aching.
Rosebush
Great company
is the rosebush,
hip to fine-dressed hip
like a queen, with
the strictness of the poor
who cannot buy a crown.
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.
Hard Ride
A horse with
the king’s guitar.
A lost horse
to carry me
to the tomb.
I kiss a late rose,
having laid out
my walking garb,
weary and hot.
Maypole
People
have
set up
maypoles;
I resolve
to hide.
I count
myself
a perfect
stone of
heaven,
a park
without
a gate,
a pistol
for pins.
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
Or try: