Poems about table
Some Way Back
others must resist
that they are beautiful
eyes were not meant to know,
but nobody was there!
'twas this on tables i had seen
some know him whom we knew
let me think i'm sure
and yet existence some way back
some things that fly there be
See The Thinking How Small In Those Who
the thinking how they walked alive
more life went out when he went
how midnight felt, at first to me
so i said or thought
i'm that or nought
nor ever now so sweet
though the faith accommodate but two
how small in those who live
you cannot find out all about
see the bird reach it!
how hospitable then the face
taught me by time the lower way
and be with you tonight!
How Short It Would Split His Table's
offended by the wind
could i do more for thee
by means of it in god's ear
the brain is deeper than the sea
of all the birds that be
of the seasons and the sun,
i never saw the sea;
i never saw before
it was the limit of my dream
and this of all my hopes
his table's spread too high for us
for it would split his heart, to know it
how short it takes to make a bride
just a look at the horses
the purple could not keep the east,
Was The Better Claim,
wind and window flower
and warm stove-window light,
that sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
and having perhaps the better claim,
was the poorhouse, and those who could afford,
and bought the telescope with what it came to,
upon the road, to flames too, though in fear
so they made the place comfortable with straw,
what had that flower to do with being white,
to see, if in a dream they brought of you,
She Had To Ask, "what Was Intended So,
the scent of apples, i am drowsing off,
soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
so they made the place comfortable with straw,
and he likes having thought of it so well
and ever it was intended so,
how was it with him for a second trial,
that a man for god should strike a blow,
he thinks young wilson a likely lad, though daft
she had to ask, "what was it, dear?"
though doubtful whether he stayed to see,
but the thing of it is, i need to be kept,
so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though,
it is because like men we look too near,
There Are Things That Can Never Be The
better to go down dignified
for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane,
the sparks made no attempt to be the moon,
he wanted to go over that, but most of all
they thought all chopping was theirs of right,
coming and going all the time, they are,
there are things that can never be the same,
but though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,
so they made the place comfortable with straw,
with doors that none but the wind ever closes,
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,
To Go There,
we did that day was mingle great and small
"home is the place where, when you have to go there,
to be coming home the way i was,
it will be long ere the marshes resume,
just as you will till it becomes a habit,
since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven as yet
to which it is reserved for god above
see nothing worthy to have been its mark,
they did not have the wit to say,
on the sidehill, we haven't to mind those,
when supper's on the table, and we'll see
and all the time we talked you seemed to see
on the sidehill, we haven't to mind those,
where they have left not one stone on a stone,
To The Storm And Over And Rout
oh, come forth into the storm and rout
the same leaves over and over again!
to the low roof over his bed,
to each the boulders that have fallen to each,
so they made the place comfortable with straw,
She Scorns A Pasture Withering To The Place
one flight out sideways would have undeceived him,
i must be wonted to it that's the reason,
if certain it wouldn't be idle to call
and ought to do some good if splitting stars
i didn't know him well enough to know
and say no word to tell me who he was
he said to gain time, "what is it you see?"
anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak
so they made the place comfortable with straw,
the hard snow held me, save where now and then
who makes the solid tree trunks sound again,
she scorns a pasture withering to the root,
dragging the whole sky with it to the hills,
and turns to the wind to unruffle a plume,
were native to the grain before the knife
Your Head So Much Concerned With What It
when supper's on the table, and we'll see
your head so much concerned with outer,
and bought the telescope with what it came to,
a flower to try its currents where they crossed,
to seek the happy isles together,