LIKE trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee:
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry
Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes,
While he, victorious, tilts away
To vanquish other blooms. More→
Author: Teresa Pelka
Linguist, specialized in American English and psycholinguistics; inventor of Language Mapping, a generative grammar method; author and translator; a poet and painter a bit.
Presentiment
PRESENTIMENT is that long shadow on the lawn
Indicative that suns go down... More→
As Children Bid the Guest
AS children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on. More→
Angels, in the Early Morning
ANGELS, in the early morning,
May be seen the dews among;
Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying:
Do the buds to them belong? More→
So Bashful
SO bashful, when I spied her,
So pretty, so ashamed!
So hidden in her leaflets,
Lest anybody find... More→
Two Worlds
IT makes no difference abroad —
The seasons fit the same,
The mornings blossom into noons,
And split their pods of flame. More→
The Mountain
THE mountain sat upon the plain
In his eternal chair,
His observation omnifold,
His inquest everywhere. More→
A Day
I’LL tell you how the sun rose —
A ribbon at a time!
The steeples swam in amethyst,
The news like squirrels ran!
The hills untied their bonnets,
The bobolinks begun;
Then I said softly to myself,
“That must have been the sun!” More→
Butterfly’s Assumption-Gown
THE butterfly’s assumption-gown,
In chrysoprase apartments hung,
This afternoon put on. More→
The Wind
OF all the sounds despatched abroad,
There’s not a charge to me
Like that old measure in the boughs,
That phraseless melody
The wind does, working like a hand
Whose fingers brush the sky,
Then quiver down, with tufts of tune
Permitted gods and me.
When winds go round and round in bands,
And thrum upon the door,
And birds take places overhead,
To bear them orchestra... More→
Death and Life
APPARENTLY with no surprise
To any happy flower,
The frost beheads it at its play
In accidental power. More→
’T Was Later
’TWAS later, when the summer went
Than when the cricket came,
And yet we knew that gentle clock
Meant nought but going home. More→
Indian Summer
THESE are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, —
A blue and gold mistake. More→
Autumn
THE morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town. More→
Beclouded
THE sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates, if it will go. More→
The Hemlock
ITHINK the hemlock likes to stand
Upon a marge of snow;
It suits his own austerity,
And satisfies an awe
That men must slake in wilderness,
Or in the desert cloy —
An instinct for the hoar, the bald,
Lapland’s necessity. More→
A Certain Slant of Light
THERE'S a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.
Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are. More→
Index, Time and Eternity
LINKS to poems in first print order, One Dignity, Too Late, Astra Castra, Safe in Their Alabaster Chambers… More→
One Dignity
ONE dignity delays for all,
One mitred afternoon.
None can avoid this purple,
None evade this crown. More→
Too Late
DELAYED, till she had ceased to know,
Delayed, till in its vest of snow
Her loving bosom lay;
An hour behind the fleeting breath,
Later by just an hour than death —
Oh, lagging yesterday! More→
Astra Castra
DEPARTED to the judgment,
A mighty afternoon;
Great clouds like ushers leaning,
Creation looking on. More→
Safe in Their Alabaster Chambers
SAFE in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone. More→
On This Long Storm
ON this long storm the rainbow rose,
On this late morn the sun;
The clouds, like listless elephants,
Horizons straggled down. More→
From the Chrysalis
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease,
I’m feeling for the air;
A dim capacity for wings
Degrades the dress I wear. More→
Setting Sail
EXULTATION is the going
Of an inland soul to sea —
Past the houses, past the headlands,
Into deep eternity! More→
Look Back on Time with Kindly Eyes
LOOK back on time with kindly eyes,
He doubtless did his best... More→
A Train Went through a Burial Gate
ATRAIN train went through a burial gate,
A bird broke forth and sang,
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat
Till all the churchyard rang... More→
I Died for Beauty
IDIED for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room. More→
About Many Things
HOW many times these low feet staggered,
Only the soldered mouth can tell;
Try! can you stir the awful rivet?
Try! can you lift the hasps of steel? More→
Real
ILIKE a look of agony,
Because I know it’s true;
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe. More→
The Funeral
THAT short, potential stir
That each can make, but once;
That bustle so illustrious... More→
I Went to Thank Her
IWENT to thank her,
But she slept;
Her bed a funnelled stone,
With nosegays at the head and foot... More→
I’ve Seen a Dying Eye
I’VE seen a dying eye
Run round and round a room
In search of something, as it seemed... More→
Refuge
THE clouds their backs together laid,
The north begun to push,
The forests galloped till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice... Więcej→
I Never Saw a Moor
INEVER saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be. More→
Playmates
GOD permits industrious angels
Afternoons to play.
I met one, — forgot my school-mates,
All, for him, straightway. More→
To Know Just How
TO know just how he suffered would be dear;
To know if any human eyes were near
To whom he could intrust his wavering gaze,
Until it settled firm on Paradise. More→
The Last Night that She Lived
THE last night that she lived,
It was a common night,
Except the dying; this to us
Made nature different.
We noticed smallest things —
Things overlooked before,
By this great light upon our minds
Italicized, as ’t were. More→
The First Lesson
NOT in this world to see his face
Sounds long, until I read the place
Where this is said to be;
But just the primer to a life
Unopened, rare, upon the shelf,
Clasped yet to him and me. More→
The Bustle in a House
THE bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth —
The sweeping up the heart... More→
I Reason, Earth Is Short
IREASON, earth is short,
And anguish absolute,
And many hurt;
But what of that? More→
Afraid?
AFRAID? Of whom am I afraid?
Not death; for who is he?
The porter of my father’s lodge
As much abasheth me. More→
Dying
THE sun kept setting, setting still;
No hue of afternoon
Upon the village I perceived —
From house to house, ’t was noon.
The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;
No dew upon the grass,
But only on my forehead stopped,
And wandered in my face. More→
Two Swimmers
TWO swimmers wrestled on the spar
Until the morning sun,
When one turned smiling to the land.
O God, the other one! More→
The Chariot
BECAUSE I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility. More→
She Went as Quiet as the Dew
SHE went as quiet as the dew
From a familiar flower.
Not like the dew did she return
At the accustomed hour! More→
Resurgam
AT last to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side,
The rest of life to see! More→
Except to Heaven, She Is Nought
EXCEPT to heaven, she is nought;
Except for angels, lone;
Except to some wide-wandering bee,
A flower superfluous blown... More→
Death Is a Dialogue
DEATH is a dialogue between
The spirit and the dust.
“Dissolve,” says Death. The Spirit, “Sir,
I have another trust.” More→
It Was Too Late for Man
IT was too late for man,
But early yet for God;
Creation impotent to help,
But prayer remained our side. More→
TERESA PELKA.COM 