Timothy Bovee, editor
www.daypoems.net
Click on the bonsai for the next poem.
DayPoems Forum
Click to submit poems to DayPoems, comment on DayPoems or a poem within, comment on other poetry sites, update links, or simply get in touch. DayPoems Forum.
Poetry Whirl
Amy Lowell in Wikipedia
Google Amy Lowell
Latest Poetry News
Indexes
Poems
Poets
Editor's poems
Poetry Places
Poetry Places
Stormes' and Bobs' Poetry Page
The Poet's Peak
Garrett, Evvy - Working Writer
Corvidae, Rusty - Welcome to My Darkside
Barrett, Dean - A Ballad of a Thai Go-Go Dancer
I Am the Officer
Nodes powered by
Open Directory Project at dmoz.org
DayPoems Favorites
PORT: An Online Visual Arts Journal
A Poet on a Magical Journey Home
Chronicles of a Sea Woman
Parallels Studio
Bipolar Poetry
Mantra.X
Poetry, Film and Books
Poetry Archive
Project Gutenberg, a huge collection of books as text, produced as a volunteer enterprise starting in 1990. This is the source of the first poetry placed on DayPoems.
Tina Blue's Beginner's Guide to Prosody, exactly what the title says, and well worth reading.
Epicanthic Fold: "If a guy somewhere in Asia makes a blog and no one reads it, does it really exist?"
popomo.net, miniature, minimalist-inspired sculptures created from industrial cereamics, an art project at Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Oregon.
pink.popomo.net, More projects from Portland
oarena.net, Furby, Eliza, Mr_Friss and Miss_Friss.
Save Point 0.8.1, a Portland, Oregon, exhibit, Aug. 13-Sept. 5, 2004, at Disjecta.
D
a
y
P
o
e
m
s
*
D
a
y
P
o
e
m
s
*
D
a
y
P
o
e
m
s
*
D
a
y
P
o
e
m
s
*
D
a
y
P
o
e
m
s
*
D
a
y
P
o
e
m
s
*
D
a
y
P
o
e
m
s
Won't you help support DayPoems?
Madonna of the Evening Flowers
By Amy Lowell
1874-1925All day long I have been working,
Now I am tired.
I call: "Where are you?"
But there is only the oak tree rustling in the wind.
The house is very quiet,
The sun shines in on your books,
On your scissors and thimble just put down,
But you are not there.
Suddenly I am lonely:
Where are you?
I go about searching.
Then I see you,
Standing under a spire of pale blue larkspur,
With a basket of roses on your arm.
You are cool, like silver,
And you smile.
I think the Canterbury bells are playing little tunes.
You tell me that the peonies need spraying,
That the columbines have overrun all bounds,
That the pyrus japonica should be cut back and rounded.
You tell me these things.
But I look at you, heart of silver,
White heart-flame of polished silver,
Burning beneath the blue steeples of the larkspur.
And I long to kneel instantly at your feet,
While all about us peal the loud, sweet `Te Deums' of the Canterbury bells.
DayPoems Poem No. 1408
Comment on DayPoems?
If you are like us, you have strong feelings about poetry, and about each poem you read. Let it all out! Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback.
Won't you help support DayPoems?
Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web . . .
Copyright
The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2005 by Timothy K. Bovee. All rights reserved.
The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors.
Support DayPoems.Buy your books hereLatest Chapbooks from Powells!!! |
The Online Bonsai Icon Collection
http://www.hav.com/tobic.html