Famous Shawls Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Shawls poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous shawls poems. These examples illustrate what a famous shawls poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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...it for a cup
With stars like dew to fill it to the brim. . . .
How cold it is! Even the lights are cold;
They have put shawls of fog around them, see!
What if the air should grow so dimly white
That we would lose our way along the paths
Made new by walls of moving mist receding
The more we follow. . . . What a silver night!
That was our bench the time you said to me
The long new poem -- but how different now,
How eerie with the curtain of the fog
Making it strange to all the...Read more of this...
by
Teasdale, Sara
...ric dimmed
And gas lights flared again and I
Remembered when coal fires glowed
In every stall and costers’ wives
In shawls drank tea in china mugs.
28
I want a poetry
Bitten back from the tongue
Or spat like phlegm
Into the fire back
In a language that has
Metamorphosed through
Centuries of speechBurned into tree
Bark and exposed to
Weathering like stones
In hillside farms.
29
I want a poetry
Like cobbles in rain
And molten like a river
Runnin...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...at show.
My dame should dress in cheap attire;
(Good, heavy silks are never dear;) -
I own perhaps I might desire
Some shawls of true Cashmere,--
Some marrowy crapes of China silk,
Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk.
I would not have the horse I drive
So fast that folks must stop and stare;
An easy gait--two forty-five--
Suits me; I do not care;--
Perhaps, for just a single spurt,
Some seconds less would do no hurt.
Of pictures, I should like to own
Titians aud Raphaels t...Read more of this...
by
Holmes, Oliver Wendell
...poleons on each
game won.
Sport truly! It is an unruly spirit which could ask better. With
her jewels,
her laces, her shawls; her two hundred and twenty dresses, her fichus,
her veils; her pictures, her busts, her birds. It is
absurd that she
cannot be happy. The Emperor smarts under the thought
of her ingratitude.
What could he do more? And yet she spends, spends as
never before.
It is ridiculous. Can she not enjoy life at a smaller
figure?
Was ever monarch plagued wit...Read more of this...
by
Lowell, Amy
...axy stalactites
Drip and thicken, tears
The earthen womb
Exudes from its dead boredom.
Black bat airs
Wrap me, raggy shawls,
Cold homicides.
They weld to me like plums.
Old cave of calcium
Icicles, old echoer.
Even the newts are white,
Those holy Joes.
And the fish, the fish----
Christ! They are panes of ice,
A vice of knives,
A piranha
Religion, drinking
Its first communion out of my live toes.
The candle
Gulps and recovers its small altitude,
Its yellows hearten.
O ...Read more of this...
by
Plath, Sylvia
...Queen remained the fairest in the land.
It was hard on Snow, having such a glamorous mom.
She rebelled by wearing torn shawls and baggy gowns.
Her mother would sometimes say, "Snow darling,
why don't you pull back your hair? Show those pretty eyes?"
or "Come on, I'll take you shopping."
Snow preferred
staying in her safe room, looking out of her window
at the deer leaping across the lawn. Or she'd practice
her dance moves with invisible princes. And the Queen,
busy being Qu...Read more of this...
by
Duhamel, Denise
...eem so old.
What am I buying, wormy mahogany?
Is there any queen at all in it?
If there is, she is old,
Her wings torn shawls, her long body
Rubbed of its plush ----
Poor and bare and unqueenly and even shameful.
I stand in a column
Of winged, unmiraculous women,
Honey-drudgers.
I am no drudge
Though for years I have eaten dust
And dried plates with my dense hair.
And seen my strangeness evaporate,
Blue dew from dangerous skin.
Will they hate me,
These women who only scurr...Read more of this...
by
Plath, Sylvia
..., by the turbans that roll'd on the sand,
The foremost of these were the best of his band:
Crimson and green were the shawls of their wear,
And each scalp had a single long tuft of hair, [5]
All the rest was shaven and bare.
The scalps were in the wild-dog's maw,
The hair was tangled round his jaw.
But close by the shore, on the edge of the gulf,
There sat a vulture flapping a wolf,
Who had stolen from the hills, but kept away,
Scared by the dogs, from the human pre...Read more of this...
by
Byron, George (Lord)
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