Long Rossetti Poems

Poems about Poems IV

The Toast
by Michael R. Burch

For longings warmed by tepid suns
(brief lusts that animated clay),
for passions wilted at the bud
and skies grown desolate and gray,
for stars that fell from tinseled heights
and mountains bleak...

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State of the Art (II)

These are my "ars poetica" poems about the art and craft of writing poetry. 



What the Poet Sees
by Michael R. Burch

What the poet sees,
he sees as a swimmer 
~~~~underwater~~~~
watching the shoreline...

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Poems about Poets I


The Wonder Boys
by Michael R. Burch

for Leslie Mellichamp

The stars were always there, too-bright cliches:
scintillant truths the jaded world outgrew
as baffled poets winged keyed kites—amazed,
in dream of shocks that suddenly came true ...

but...

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Forever extinct seems the age of classical poetry,
With all its cheers from caves, cottages, marble domes and temples,

When now a country honors not classical bards:
O Hugh MacDiarmid, Petrarch, Ono No Komachi, Thomas Chatterton, Robert Browning,...

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Broken World



When the lies were injected 
into the veins of innocence
blue feathered quills 
dipped their nibs 
into the ink of golden stories
stalked by trolls 
dragging their fountain tips of liquorice

like shining razor blades
blunt remarks stinging...

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In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

- Excerpt from A Christmas Carol by...

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Pardon ma'am, but I noticed you've been staring at this painting for a while
She is beautiful but has such a melancholy face, it's hard to look away
Her name is Veronique and that's me behind her,...

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To qasimji
A special and king-size salute
To the head master astute
Favourite among the pupils pretty
A man of discipline full of duty
Today being his birthday
Let me verse come what may
A simple man with thinking noble
His fame spreads...

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We only talked sanely a few times, 
About how he also had a condition like me, 
Although my dad, who was a pharmacist, when James was small wouldn’t say, 
Obvious as it was that he...

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PERPETUAL PETALS
The
bouquet
of autumn,
lasts but a short
while-
but
real
flowers live-
that spring from our
soul
to
sprinkle
here and there
in posies of
love-
such
coloured
aromas,
garland others'
day
SPRING
Purple vetch and ribwort plantain
Jostle lush clover in English rain

Dogrose dotted on a briared sprawl
prickly as it meandrs tall

Speaking volumes of...

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I, Who Once Rose To Greet Dawn's Sweetest Voice

I, who once rose to greet dawn's sweetest voice
and with joys of life, made loving my choice
while in searching for romance and its gems
fiery rites of passion...

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When I was young, a book was given me:
a small book with the title "Those Who Love."
Its female author I knew nothing of -
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.

Gentle, practical and solitary,
Sara was in love with...

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A Little Piece of Paradise

An Eden-like orangery, her secret place for refreshing reverie,
a haven, from an abusive marriage, where her body and mind are free.
Away from a domineering, intrusive household,
her own favorite hideaway – a...

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My stomach's like a rumbling pit
     That any moment may explode.
My stomach's like a roiling pot
     That's holding way too big a load.
My stomach's like Vesuvius;
 ...

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mene tekel peres - calligraphic prescience.

global village voice - a dialect of babel

the poetry slam - pen viva voce
inherent bloodline - curdle into nepotism

Atlanta's Oliver Hardy
so pretentious and somewhat lardy,
had a sidekick,bungling,but thin
both silently,still bring...

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Play Not A Dirge When I Am Gone

Play not a dirge when I am gone;
light no candles, not even one.
A treasured poem would be enough  
to mark my end when curtain’s drawn.

Hold no sad...

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"My heart is like a singing bird". Christina Rossetti









The Dilettante Diaries: "The True Romantics"



Once cages are open
the True Romantics
dance their dance
of Freedom


Hidden Keys


Swallows
air beneath 
their wings



(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)








"I love you the more in that I believe...

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Eleven titles plucked from the exquisite poetry of Christina Rossetti

For my sweet child, petite Maude Clare,
Before The Paling of The Stars, I grieve
for my infant with head of flaxen curls.
I pray, Lord, save this tiny...

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Carols let you in on history and its interpretation, 
Church thought and theological progression, 
Show that people and writers have learnt the lesson,
Not to believe in god so thoroughly and to be of good reason.

We’ve...

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I now delight 
In spite 
Of the might 
And the right 
Of classic tradition, 
In writing 
And reciting 
Straight ahead, 
Without let or omission, 
Just any little rhyme
In any little time 
That runs in my...

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Tend Thy Orchard, Its Bad Limbs Prune

Shall thee let hope hold firmest sway,
Live life well now, without delay;
Enjoy the beach and its cool nights
Walk under moon's soft beaming lights.
Remember sorrow comes with grey,
Relief shall come...

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Christina Georgina Rossetti 1839-1894
a true inspiration I find her to be
devout Christian a poet of great skill
possessing lyrical gifts for all to see

To my eyes her masterpiece was
writing through Jesus Christ's eyes
"the love of Christ...

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Over these years that I won't count
writing poems with my preferred rhyme
I really don't want to write any other
it grabs me to desire my utmost climb

I just really love not only to write it
but also...

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“What can I give him poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would give him a lamb.
If I were a wise man, I would do my part.
I know what to give him, I...

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I will tell you when they met:
in the burnished flush of autumn,
when each rising of the sun
turned each golden leaf more golden.
With the trees and fields aflame,
so the scholar's heart was stolen
by that blushing, bold...

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