Poem trial

Love's Journey By Angie Mccrackin. Times are hand. Things change, people change. That's exactly what I was experiencing in my life until we saw the light of love. We almost called it a day. Our daughter is 7 years old, and I'm Everything is going well.

I love him so much. Thanks to the writer of this poem. Very well written poem. I am going through a similar situation myself. There was a time in my marriage when I felt it was over and time to go, but the strength of love between a man and woman is so pure and overpowering.

Thank you for sharing this. This poem is exactly what I've been going through in my current relationship. I feel so desperate sometimes for relief from it due to the stress it causes, because of the pain, both physically and mentally. And I crept down the stairs and up the stairs To look again, and still your spade kept lifting. Then you came in. I heard your rumbling voice Out in the kitchen, and I don't know why, But I went near to see with my own eyes.

You could sit there with the stains on your shoes Of the fresh earth from your own baby's grave And talk about your everyday concerns. You had stood the spade up against the wall Outside there in the entry, for I saw it. I'm cursed. God, if I don't believe I'm cursed. What had how long it takes a birch to rot To do with what was in the darkened parlor.

You couldn't care! The nearest friends can go With anyone to death, comes so far short They might as well not try to go at all. No, from the time when one is sick to death, One is alone, and he dies more alone. Friends make pretense of following to the grave, But before one is in it, their minds are turned And making the best of their way back to life And living people, and things they understand.

But the world's evil. I won't have grief so If I can change it. Oh, I won't, I won't! You won't go now. You're crying. Close the door. The heart's gone out of it: why keep it up. There's someone coming down the road! I must go-- Somewhere out of this house. How can I make you--' 'If--you--do! First tell me that. I'll follow and bring you back by force.

I will! Robert Frost To Earthward Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air That crossed me from sweet things, The flow of—was it musk From hidden grapevine springs Downhill at dusk? I had the swirl and ache From sprays of honeysuckle That when they're gathered shake Dew on the knuckle. I craved strong sweets, but those Seemed strong when I was young; The petal of the rose It was that stung.

Now no joy but lacks salt, That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault; I crave the stain Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove. When stiff and sore and scarred I take away my hand From leaning on it hard In grass and sand, The hurt is not enough: I long for weight and strength To feel the earth as rough To all my length. Christmas Trees A Christmas circular letter The city had withdrawn into itself And left at last the country to the country; When between whirls of snow not come to lie And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove A stranger to our yard, who looked the city, Yet did in country fashion in that there He sat and waited till he drew us out, A-buttoning coats, to ask him who he was.

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Langston Hughes. All Poems. William Wordsworth. Rabindranath Tagore. Shel Silverstein. William Shakespeare. William Blake. Emily Dickinson. All Poets.