Category: Uncategorized

  • For April 27th

    Let Evening Come Let the light of late afternoon shine through chinks in the barn, moving up the bales as… (Read the rest of the poem here.)   by Jane Kenyon  

  • For April 26th

    One Art The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with… (read the rest here)   by Elizabeth Bishop

  • For April 25th

    Never Again Would Bird’s Song Be the Same He would declare and could himself believe That the birds there in all the garden round From having heard the daylong voice of Eve Had added to their own an oversound, Her tone of meaning but without the words. Admittedly an eloquence so soft Could only have…

  • For April 24th

    Of Mere Being The palm at the end of the mind, Beyond the last thought, rises In the bronze decor, A gold-feathered bird Sings in the palm, without human meaning, Without human feeling, a foreign song. You know then that it is not the reason That makes us happy or unhappy. The bird sings. Its…

  • For April 23rd

    Love (III) Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,        Guilty of dust and sin.But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack        From my first entrance in,Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning        If I lack’d anything.“A guest,” I answer’d, “worthy to be here”;       …

  • For April 22nd

    A Blessing by JAMES WRIGHT Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota, Twilight bounds softly for…. (read the poem here)

  • For April 21st

    Madonna of the Evening Flowers by Amy Lowell All day long I have been working Now I am tired. I call: “Where are you?” But there is only the  … [Read the poem here.]

  • For April 20th

    An Arundal Tomb by Philip Larkin Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess lie …

  • For April 19th

    The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping…

  • For April 18th

    For Harold Bloom by A. R. Ammons I went to the summit and stood in the high nakedness: the wind tore about this way and that in confusion and its speech could not get through to me nor could I …. (Read the poem here!)