Poetry
But For a Woodpecker
But for a woodpecker
Tapping at a post, no sound
At all in the house
— Matsuo Basho
With Every Gust of Wind
With every gust of wind,
The butterfly changes its place
On the willow.
— Matsuo Basho
The Banana Tree
The banana tree
Blown by winds pours raindrops
Into the bucket
–Matsuo Basho
Wind On The Hill
No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.
It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.
But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.
And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.
So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.
— A. A. Milne
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
— William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)
Sudden Storm
The rain comes in sheets
Sweeping the streets,
Here, here, and here,
Umbrellas appear.
Red, blue, yellow, green,
They tilt and they lean,
Like mushrooms, like flowers,
That grow when it showers.
— Elizabeth Coatsworth
Winter Garden
Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.
— Matsuo Basho (Translated by Robert Hass)
Dust of Snow
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
— Robert Frost
Download File: Robert Frost – Winter Poems
Good Hours
I had for my winter evening walk—
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.
And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.
I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.
Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o’clock of a winter eve.
— Robert Frost
Download File: Robert Frost – Winter Poems
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
— Robert Frost
Download File: Robert Frost – Winter Poems
One Day at a Time
One day at a time, with its failures and fears,
With its hurts and mistakes, with its weakness and tears,
With its portion of pain and its burden of care;
One day at a time we must meet and must bear.
One day at a time to be patient and strong,
To be calm under trial and sweet under wrong;
Then its toiling shall pass and its sorrow shall cease;
It shall darken and die, and the night shall bring peace.
One day at a time – but the day is so long,
And the heart is not brave, and the soul is not strong,
O Thou pitiful Christ, be Thou near all the way;
Give courage and patience and strength for the day.
Swift cometh His answer, so clear and so sweet;
“Yea, I will be with thee, thy troubles to meet;
I will not forget thee, nor fail thee, nor grieve;
I will not forsake thee; I never will leave.”
Not yesterday’s load we are called on to bear,
Nor the morrow’s uncertain and shadowy care;
Why should we look forward or back with dismay?
Our needs, as our mercies, are but for the day.
One day at a time, and the day is His day;
He hath numbered its hours, though they haste or delay.
His grace is sufficient; we walk not alone;
As the day, so the strength that He giveth His own.
— by Annie Johnson Flint (1866-1932)
Now Close the Windows
Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.
It will be long ere the marshes resume,
It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.
— Robert Frost
Download File: Robert Frost – Winter Poems
Hearts Are Like Doors
Hearts, like doors, will open with ease
To very, very little keys,
And don’t forget that two of these
Are “Thank you, sir” and “If you please.”
— Anonymous
Icy Morning Haiku
On a frozen pond
a small dog is nervously
attempting to skate.
Way up in the tree
a black cat grins with delight,
watching and waiting.
Beneath the clear ice
a big fish wonders if all
dogs walk on water.
— James Carter
The Rain
Rain on the green grass
And rain on the tree,
Rain on the house top
But not upon me.
— Anonymous
Little Fish
The tiny fish enjoy themselves
in the sea.
Quick little splinters of life,
their little lives are fun to them
in the sea.
— D. H. Lawrence