Poems about pull
I Pull A Ball
'tis pain's successor when the soul
that other kind was pain
and pain is missed in praise
then caught me like a ball
i pull a flower from the woods
somebody run to the great gate
that i may take that promise
i meant to tell her how i longed
for doubt, that i should know the sound
this way, i keep from missing
i sent it even now?
she could not find her yes
i only must not change so fair
should i again experience
Where They Sought Without Twice Thinking, Where
and where they sought without the sword
before them over their heads to dry in the sun,
the farmhouse lingers, though averse to square
of course they had to feed him without dishes,
with shouts afar to pull the cable taught,
grim giving to do over for them both,
by leaving them to flourish, not for us,
to flames without twice thinking, where it verges
With Shouts Afar To Pull The Ties Gave,
the ties gave,
mine with inner, weather,
once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
yet not enough, a bullet through and through,
forgetting that as fitted to the sphere,
with shouts afar to pull the cable taught,
the mystic link to bind and hold
With Being White,
what would you say to war if it should come?
what had that flower to do with being white,
which may be thought, but only so to speak,
leastways for me and then they'll be convinced,
all this to prove we cared, why is there then
len says one steady pull more ought to do it,
how else? they are not known to send the dead
len says one steady pull more ought to do it,
with a thick thumbnail to show how it ran
the water for which we may have to look
and there his courage could not endure
That Flower To Do With Straw,
`whether they work together or apart,'
"home is the place where, when you have to go there,
tomorrow they may form and go,
as if to prove saws knew what supper meant,
than for himself, so placed he couldn't hope
so they made the place comfortable with straw,
though as for that the passing there
the bird was not to blame for his key,
and bought the telescope with what it came to,
what had that flower to do with being white,
that now it means to stay,
but the thing of it is, i need to be kept,
but which it only needs that we fulfill,
they leave us so to the way we took,
len says one steady pull more ought to do it,
Where They Sought Without The Interstellar Gloom
in winter he comes back to us, i'm done,"
for them there was really nothing sad,
where the flower was before it grew,
thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
and where they sought without the sword
and left defenseless to the heat and light,
where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
with shouts afar to pull the cable taught,
nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him,
to view once more the sacrifice
to whoever the knock
he might prefer to say to him disarmed,
Nothing To Leave It To, Whether The
and cut a flower beside a ground bird's nest
my breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze,
when leaning with my head again a flower
and my head sways to my shoulder
dimly to have made out my secret place,
to leave it to, whether the right to hold
to take him in, and might be willing to
next to nothing for weight,
slave to a springtime passion for the earth,
to satisfy a lifelong curiosity
like a beast's stall, to ease their consciences,
and nothing to look backward to with pride,
ever to grind to soil for grass,
with shouts afar to pull the cable taught,