#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #PoemsOfPower
The day will dawn when one of us s… In vain to hear a voice that has g… And morns will fade, noons pale,… While sad eyes watch for feet that… One of us two must sometime face e…
The sun may be clouded, yet ever t… Will sweep on its course till the… And when onto chaos the systems ar… Again shall the Builder reshape a… Your path may be clouded, uncertai…
Here is a lock of his soft, dark h… And here are the letters he wrote… And the ring of gold that I used… Is here in the casket-see! I put them away ten years ago.
Said the manicure scissors one day… ‘The shears always have their own… And I think it absurd That I am deterred From entering into life’s fray.
Too sweet and too subtle for pen o… In phrases unwritten and measures… As deep and as strange as the soun… Is the song that my spirit is sing… In the midnight and tempest when f…
All roads that lead to God are go… What matters it, your faith, or mi… Both centre at the goal divine Of love’s eternal Brotherhood. The kindly life in house or street…
I loved a maiden, long ago, She held within her hand my fate; And in the ruddy sunset glow We lingered at the garden gate. The splendor of the western skies
I saw a mother give wine to her bo… The rain-drops fall and fall: The pride of his parents, a househ… A mother’s blessing, her all. I saw the cheek of the youth grow…
Back of each soldier who fights fo… Aye, back of each woman and man Who toils and prays through these… Is the spirit of Great Joan. For the love she gave, and the lif…
“By And Bye” The Maiden Sighed—… He Will Claim Me For His Bride. Hope Is Strong And Time Is Flee… Youth Is Fair, And Love Is Swee… Clouds Will Pass That Fleck My…
Oh! that is a beautiful land, I w… The land of the Gone-away Souls. Yes, a lovelier region by far than… (Though this is a world most fair)… The goodliest goal of all good goa…
What a terrible night! Does the N… The Night, with her black veil do… Like an ordained nun, know what li… That awful, motionless, snow-white… The winds seem crazed, and, wildly…
When love is lost, the day sets to… Albeit the morning sun may still b… And not one cloud-ship sails acros… Yet from the places where it used… Gone is the lustrous glory of the…
Toward even when the day leans dow… To kiss the upturned face of night… Out just beyond the loud-voiced to… I know a spot of calm delight. Like crimson arrows from a quiver
If we sit down at set of sun, And count the things that we have… And counting, find One self-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him who he…