< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems II. Mayflower Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss, Known by the knoll, Next to the robin In every human soul. Bold little beauty, Bedecked with thee, Nature forswears Antiquity. -Emily Dickinson Enjoy Artistic Representations of “Mayflower” by Emily Dickinson […]
Search Results for: poetry at work
I. New Feet Within My Garden Go by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems I. New Feet Within My Garden Go New feet within my garden go, New fingers stir the sod; A troubadour upon the elm Betrays the solitude. New children play upon the green, New weary sleep below; And still the pensive spring returns, And still the punctual snow! -Emily Dickinson […]
Poets and Poems: Charles Reznikoff and “Poems”
In his first two poetry collections, Charles Reznikoff reflected the experience of Jewish immigrants to America.
Poet Laura: The Butterfly Effect—Year of the Monarch
Dheepa R. Maturi, Tweetspeak’s Poet Laura, invites us to participate in the Year of the Monarch, a project both practical and poetic, to help our butterfly friends.
“A Light Exists In Spring” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Light Exists In Spring A light exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here A color stands abroad On solitary hills That science cannot overtake, But human naturefeels. It waits upon the lawn; It shows the furthest tree Upon […]
“A Clock Stopped — Not The Mantel’s” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Clock Stopped- Not The Mantel’s A clock stopped — not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket! The figures hunched with pain, Then quivered out of decimals Into degreeless noon. It will not stir […]
“I’m Nobody, Who Are You?” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems I’m Nobody, Who Are You? I’m nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there’s a pair of us — don’t tell! They’d banish — you know! How dreary to be somebody! How public like a frog To tell one’s name the livelong day To an admiring bog! […]
“A Dying Tiger Moaned for a Drink” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Dying Tiger Moaned for a Drink A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand— His Mighty Balls—in death were thick— But searching—I could see A Vision on the Retina Of Water—and of me— […]
“Because I Could Not Stop For Death” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems Because I Could Not Stop For Death Because I could not stop for Death- He kindly stopped for me- The Carriage held but just Ourselves- And Immortality. We slowly drove- He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility- We […]
“A Bird Came Down the Walk” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Bird Came Down the Walk A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew From a convenient grass, And then hopped sidewise to the wall To let a […]
“Heaven Is What I Cannot Reach” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems Heaven Is What I Cannot Reach “Heaven”—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—”Heaven” is—to Me! The Color, on the Cruising Cloud— The interdicted Land— Behind the Hill—the House behind— There—Paradise—is found! Her teasing Purples—Afternoons— The credulous—decoy— Enamored—of the Conjuror— That spurned […]
“Nature Is What We See” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems Nature Is What We See ‘Nature’ is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven— Nature is what we hear— The Bobolink—the Sea— Thunder—the Cricket— Nay—Nature is Harmony— Nature is what we know— Yet have no art to say— So impotent Our Wisdom is To […]
“”Why Do I Love”You, Sir?” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems “Why Do I Love” You, Sir? “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Grass To answer—Wherefore when He pass She cannot keep Her place. Because He knows—and Do not You— And We know not— Enough for Us The Wisdom it be so— The […]
“Hope Is The Thing With Feathers” by Emily Dickinson
< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems Hope Is The Thing With Feathers ‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many […]
Poets and Poems: Thomas Kinsella and “Last Poems”
“Last Poems” by Irish poet Thomas Kinsella explores the big, eternal questions that increasingly occupy our minds as we age.
“Hamnet”: Visualizing What Inspired Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”
The novel and play “Hamnet” suggest that Shakespeare may have memorialized his son, who died in 1596, in the play “Hamlet.”
Poet Laura: I Surrender
Writer Dheepa R. Maturi enters a hard period in life, and it strongly blocks her writing. But then she finds a surprising way through. You could, too.
“To A Butterfly” by William Wordsworth
< Return to all Wordsworth poems To A Butterfly Stay near me—do not take thy flight! A little longer stay in sight! Much converse do I find I thee, Historian of my infancy ! Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bring’st, gay creature as thou art! A solemn […]
“The World Is Too Much With Us” by William Wordsworth
< Return to all Wordsworth poems The World Is Too Much With Us The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to […]
“The Sun Has Long Been Set” by William Wordsworth
< Return to all Wordsworth poems The Sun Has Long Been Set The sun has long been set, The stars are out by twos and threes, The little birds are piping yet Among the bushes and the trees; There’s a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes, And a far-off wind that rushes, And a sound […]