Bernard O'dowd Time Poems

  • 1.
    I wonder if the spell, the mystery,
    That like a haze about your silence clings,
    Moulding your void until we seem to see
    Tangible Presences of Deathless Things,
  • 2.
    THEY tell you the poet is useless and empty the sound of his lyre,
    That science has made him a phantom, and thinned to a shadow his fire:
    Yet reformer has never demolished a dungeon or den of the foe
    But the flame of the soul of a poet pulsated in every blow.
  • 3.
    CAN we not consecrate
    To man and God above
    This volume of our great
    Supernal tide of love?
  • 4.
    The Survival Of The Gods

    1 Twilight
  • 5.
    THE SUNNY rounds of Earth contain
    An obverse to its Day,
    Our fertile VagrancyĆ¢??s domain,
    Wan Proletaria.
  • 6.
    There was a time we had the power
    To build with Silent Thought
    The perfect heaven-reaching tower,
    As ancient seers have taught.
  • 7.
    I know not why I love your baffling face,
    Or, lonely, to your cold caresses steal,
    Or what the charm persuades my wearied eyes
    Follow the clues that gleam and, wavering, go,
  • 8.
    LAST sea-thing dredged by sailor Time from Space,
    Are you a drift Sargasso, where the West
    In halcyon calm rebuilds her fatal nest?
    Or Delos of a coming Sun-God-s race?
Total 8 Time Poems by Bernard O'dowd

Top 10 most used topics by Bernard O'dowd

God 15 Love 11 I Love You 11 Song 8 Time 8 Life 7 World 6 Never 6 Hope 6 Earth 6

Write your comment about Bernard O'dowd

Poem of the day

Robert Service Poem
The Three Bares
 by Robert Service

Ma tried to wash her garden slacks but couldn't get 'em clean
And so she thought she'd soak 'em in a bucket o' benzine.
It worked all right. She wrung 'em out then wondered what she'd do
With all that bucket load of high explosive residue.
She knew that it was dangerous to scatter it around,
For Grandpa liked to throw his lighted matches on the ground.
Somehow she didn't dare to pour it down the kitchen sink,
And what the heck to do with it, poor Ma jest couldn't think.

Read complete poem

Popular Poets