Pink Poems: The Pink - Poem by Henry King

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The Pink - Poem by Henry King

Fair one, you did on me bestow
Comparisons too sweet to ow;
And but I found them sent from you
I durst not think they could be true.
But 'tis your uncontrolled power
Goddess-like to produce a flower,
And by your breath, without more seed,
Make that a Pink which was a Weed.
Because I would be loth to miss
So sweet a Metamorphosis,
Upon what stalk soere I grow
Disdain not you sometimes to blow
And cherish by your Virgin eye
What in your frown would droop and die:
So shall my thankful leaf repay
Perfumed wishes every day:
And o're your fortune breathe a spell
Which may his obligation tell,
Who though he nought but air can give
Must ever your (Sweet) creature live.

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Pink Poems
  1. 1. ***barbarism In Pink City Again! ! !
    Dr subhendu kar
  2. 2. Pink Dominoes
    Rudyard Kipling
  3. 3. Frequently The Wood Are Pink
    Emily Dickinson
  4. 4. 'In The Pink'
    Siegfried Sassoon
  5. 5. Pink
    Laura Cummings
  6. 6. Pink Is My Colour
    Lovina Sylvia Chidi
  7. 7. Pink Ribbons
    Valerie Dohren
  8. 8. Pink Pink
    chris dawson
  9. 9. **pink Ribbon Black**
    Daniel Richards
  10. 10. *in Pink
    Sadiqullah Khan
  11. 11. A Day At The Pink Beach
  12. 12. Pink Ribbons
    Shawn Aveningo Sanders
  13. 13. The Pink Carnation
    Henry Lawson
  14. 14. Pink Roses
    James McLain
  15. 15. Pink
    Mark R Slaughter
  16. 16. Pink Pyjama Party?
    Stephen Katona
  17. 17. Her Toenails Painted Pink
    Uriah Hamilton
  18. 18. A Shade Of Pink
    Him Name
  19. 19. ***paradise-11-Pink Marine
    Coach Roth
  20. 20. Pink-Ribbon Blues
    saadat tahir
  21. 21. Ebook 'Pink Ribbons'
    Valerie Dohren
  22. 22. I Shall Always Wear Pink
    Ernestine Northover
  23. 23. *end Of These Pink Pills*
    Alien Girl
  24. 24. The Power Of Pink
    Sandra Martyres
  25. 25. Pink Rose
    Marilyn Lott
  26. 26. Pink Eucalyptus Flowers
    Lesbia Harford
  27. 27. The Pink
    Henry King
  28. 28. Pink Sari
    Sathya Narayana
  29. 29. Pink-Edged Clouds, Sunset Sun
    (c) Colorofsky
  30. 30. Your Pink Cloud
    Marilyn Lott
  31. 31. Rose Is Pink
    ramesh rai
  32. 32. Pink Flowers.
    Aron Lelei
  33. 33. The Pink Velvet Door
    Candice James
  34. 34. Font Color=pink♥ Our Love :)
    Ju5t m3 Kay
  35. 35. Pink
    John Kipling Lewis
  36. 36. Barbarism In Pink City Again
    Dr subhendu kar
  37. 37. Say Goodbye In Pink Satin
    Susan Lacovara
  38. 38. She Is Red, Instead Of Pink
    James McLain
  39. 39. Pink Rose
    Colonel Muhamad Khalid Khan
  40. 40. 'A Dozen Of Pink Roses' (For Breast Canc..
    Linda Winchell
  41. 41. Pink Lemonade
    Juan Olivarez
  42. 42. Pink Coat
    Alyssa Ray
  43. 43. Pink (An Acrostic)
    John Carter Brown
  44. 44. Pink Bellflower, (Love Letters Written B..
    Captain Cur
  45. 45. Pink-Pearl Driver
    Tsira Gogeshvili
  46. 46. Frequently The Wood Mix Pink
    James McLain
  47. 47. This Peach Is Pink With Such A Pink
    Norman Rowland Gale
  48. 48. A Pink Sky Gone Grey.
    Mandy Lee
  49. 49. My Pink Rose
    Heather Burns
  50. 50. The Lady In Pink
    Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

New Pink Poems

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  3. Pink 2, Edward Kofi Louis
  4. Turning Pink Hydrangeas Blue Or Vice Versa, Mary Angela Douglas
  5. Sea To Sky Haiku, Chenou Liu
  6. It's Pinkness I Need, Akhtar Jawad
  7. Watercolors, Richard D Remler
  8. Pink Flowers, Poker Chips, And Roses, Noel Taylor
  9. Marooned By Pink., SY Wong ...
  10. Pink Palace 2, Edward Kofi Louis

Pink Poems

  1. Pink Dominoes

    "They are fools who kiss and tell" -- Wisely has the poet sung. Man may hold all sorts of posts If he'll only hold his tongue. Jenny and Me were engaged, you see, On the eve of the Fancy Ball; So a kiss or two was nothing to you Or any one else at all. Menny would go in a domino -- Pretty and pink but warm; While I attended, clad in a splendid Austrian uniform. Now we had arranged, through notes exchanged Early that afternoon, At Number Four to waltz no more, But to sit in the dusk and spoon. I wish you to see that Jenny and Me Had barely exchanged our troth; So a kiss or two was strictly due By, from, and between us both. When Three was over, an eager lover, I fled to the gloom outside; And a Domino came out also Whom I took for my future bride. That is to say, in a casual way, I slipped my arm around her; With a kiss or two (which is nothing to you), And ready to kiss I found her. She turned her head and the name she said Was certainly not my own; But ere I could speak, with a smothered shriek She fled and left me alone. Then Jenny came, and I saw with shame She'd doffed her domino; And I had embraced an alien waist -- But I did not tell her so. Next morn I knew that there were two Dominoes pink, and one Had cloaked the spouse of Sir Julian Vouse, Our big Political gun. Sir J. was old, and her hair was gold, And her eye was a blue cerulean; And the name she said when she turned her head Was not in the least like "Julian."

  2. 'In The Pink'

    So Davies wrote: ' This leaves me in the pink. ' Then scrawled his name: ' Your loving sweetheart Willie ' With crosses for a hug. He'd had a drink Of rum and tea; and, though the barn was chilly, For once his blood ram warm; he had pay to spend, Winter was passing; soon the year would mend. He couldn't sleep that night. Stiff in the dark He groaned and thought of Sundays at the farm, When he'd go out as cheerful as a lark In his best suit to wander arm-in-arm With brown-eyed Gwen, and whisper in her ear The simple, silly things she liked to hear. And then he thought: to-morrow night we trudge Up to the trenches, and my boots are rotten. Five miles of stodgy clay and freezing sludge, And everything but wretchedness forgotten. To-night he's in the pink; but soon he'll die. And still the war goes on; he don't know why.

  3. Frequently The Wood Are Pink

    6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town. Oft a head is crested I was wont to see— And as oft a cranny Where it used to be— And the Earth— they tell me— On its Axis turned! Wonderful Rotation! By but twelve performed!

  4. Pink

    Feather light wings that float softly through the air tickled by specks of dust. Bright white light inflamed with pink and laced with gold. Raising flowers, changing seasons, singing in high pitched voices that only children can hear. Little tiny people in little tiny clothes. Pink, White and Baby Blue, Only innocent eyes can see. Pink nail varnish, Pink lipstick, Pink eye shadow, Pink blusher, Pink clothes that reveal too much Pink skin. Standing on street corners innocent eyes forgotten. Long ago were the days when fairies were believed in. Lost memories and lost dreams, innocence killed, for a life of nightmares and love ripped at the seams.

  5. ***barbarism In Pink City Again! ! !

    I am really shocked to behold the pink city Blood when flows near by the green field From the ill fatted souls of their mother’s womb Tear when turns red eyes yet steeped in sorrows Serial blasts brutals as act against humanity in this maddened world across the mankind fire when burns the love in men innocent blood when pierced into tearful sorrows peace and care when waned by evil insane should we still call them homosapiens, perhaps no unwanted rogues resourced by their own ill design society still seems wild by the doings of paranoia yet we call upon justice knocking the door of divine barbarism still plays by the laughter of wickedness slanting across the door of terrorism when befuddled as when wrought by the minds of ill born dunderheads can we not classify them in between man and killer giant still they seem to be more severe and wild by the death even more dangerous than wild and insane of the jungles the crown when worn by the heinous world of terrorism the cruelty has already infiltrated to our blood yet not the last massacre of trade centre or else where that has not yet been blotted out from our mind, still we remember that horrific moments by the death the process of annihilation when starts sun may disappear from east or west man when counts his age by the void in darkness heart still bleats and blurs by the hope against hope and we condemns this domestic terrorism by monsters God might be feeling pity for those Frankenstein who never think of their own grave.hanging on their heads I sill remember the inch cape rock against the storm Ralf the Rover when embraced the deadly death I still pray God never allows these heartless worms to be here again or to grow some where lest the tears may not fall again on this earth in the furrows of remorse and sorrows as entwinned