Famous Short Scarf Poems

Famous Short Scarf Poems. Short Scarf Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Scarf short poems

Symphony In Yellow  

 An omnibus across the bridge
Crawls like a yellow butterfly
And, here and there, a passer-by
Shows like a little restless midge.

Big barges full of yellow hay
Are moored against the shadowy wharf,
And, like a yellow silken scarf,
The thick fog hangs along the quay.

The yellow leaves begin to fade
And flutter from the Temple elms,
And at my feet the pale green Thames
Lies like a rod of rippled jade.

Autumn Movement  

 I CRIED over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

Where We Differ  

 To think my thoughts are hers, 
Not one of hers is mine; 
She laughs -- while I must sigh; 
She sighs -- while I must whine.

She eats -- while I must fast; 
She reads -- while I am blind; 
She sleeps -- while I must wake; 
Free -- I no freedom find.

To think the world for me 
Contains but her alone, 
And that her eyes prefer 
Some ribbon, scarf, or stone.

Street Window  

 THE PAWN-SHOP man knows hunger,
And how far hunger has eaten the heart
Of one who comes with an old keepsake.
Here are wedding rings and baby bracelets,
Scarf pins and shoe buckles, jeweled garters,
Old-fashioned knives with inlaid handles,
Watches of old gold and silver,
Old coins worn with finger-marks.
They tell stories.

The morns are meeker than they were  

 The morns are meeker than they were --
The nuts are getting brown --
The berry's cheek is plumper --
The Rose is out of town.

The Maple wears a gayer scarf --
The field a scarlet gown --
Lest I should be old fashioned
I'll put a trinket on.

Mist Forms  

 THE SHEETS of night mist travel a long valley.
I know why you came at sundown in a scarf mist.

What was it we touched asking nothing and asking all?
How many times can death come and pay back what we saw?

In the oath of the sod, the lips that swore,
In the oath of night mist, nothing and all,
A riddle is here no man tells, no woman.

As far from pity as complaint  

 As far from pity, as complaint --
As cool to speech -- as stone --
As numb to Revelation
As if my Trade were Bone --

As far from time -- as History --
As near yourself -- Today --
As Children, to the Rainbow's scarf --
Or Sunset's Yellow play

To eyelids in the Sepulchre --
How dumb the Dancer lies --
While Color's Revelations break --
And blaze -- the Butterflies!

Pearl Fog  

 Open the door now.
Go roll up the collar of your coat
To walk in the changing scarf of mist.

Tell your sins here to the pearl fog
And know for once a deepening night
Strange as the half-meanings
Alurk in a wise woman's mousey eyes.

 Yes, tell your sins
And know how careless a pearl fog is
Of the laws you have broken.

Mask  

 Fling your red scarf faster and faster, dancer.
It is summer and the sun loves a million green leaves,
 masses of green.
Your red scarf flashes across them calling and a-calling.
The silk and flare of it is a great soprano leading a
 chorus
Carried along in a rouse of voices reaching for the heart
 of the world.
Your toes are singing to meet the song of your arms:

Let the red scarf go swifter.
Summer and the sun command you.