Best Famous May Swenson Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous May Swenson poems. This is a select list of the best famous May Swenson poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous May Swenson poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of May Swenson poems.

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Written by May Swenson | Create an image from this poem


 Blue, but you are Rose, too,
and buttermilk, but with blood
dots showing through.
A little salty your white nape boy-wide.
Glinting hairs shoot back of your ears' Rose that tongues like to feel the maze of, slip into the funnel, tell a thunder-whisper to.
When I kiss, your eyes' straight lashes down crisp go like doll's blond straws.
Glazed iris Roses, your lids unclose to Blue-ringed targets, their dark sheen-spokes almost green.
I sink in Blue- black Rose-heart holes until you blink.
Pink lips, the serrate folds taste smooth, and Rosehip- round, the center bud I suck.
I milknip your two Blue-skeined blown Rose beauties, too, to sniff their berries' blood, up stiff pink tips.
You're white in patches, only mostly Rose, buckskin and saltly, speckled like a sky.
I love your spots, your white neck, Rose, your hair's wild straw splash, silk spools for your ears.
But where white spouts out, spills on your brow to clear eyepools, wheel shafts of light, Rose, you are Blue.
Written by May Swenson | Create an image from this poem

The Woods At Night

 The binocular owl,
fastened to a limb
like a lantern
all night long,

sees where all
the other birds sleep:
towhee under leaves,
titmouse deep

in a twighouse,
sapsucker gripped
to a knothole lip,
redwing in the reeds,

swallow in the willow,
flicker in the oak -
but cannot see poor

under the hill
in deadbrush nest,
who's awake, too -
with stricken eye

flayed by the moon
her brindled breast
repeats, repeats, repeats its plea
for cruelty.
Written by May Swenson | Create an image from this poem


 Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift
how will I hide?