Joyce Kilmer

(1886-1918 / New Jersey)

Alarm Clocks - Poem by Joyce Kilmer

When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farm
Across green fields and yellow hills of hay
The little twittering birds laugh in his way
And poise triumphant on his shining arm.
He bears a sword of flame but not to harm
The wakened life that feels his quickening sway
And barnyard voices shrilling "It is day!"
Take by his grace a new and alien charm.

But in the city, like a wounded thing
That limps to cover from the angry chase,
He steals down streets where sickly arc-lights sing,
And wanly mock his young and shameful face;
And tiny gongs with cruel fervor ring
In many a high and dreary sleeping place.


Comments about Alarm Clocks by Joyce Kilmer

  • Silver Star - 3,214 Points Walterrean Salley (8/9/2012 6:45:00 PM)

    Strong images. Beautiful poem, well written. Enjoyed very much. (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
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Read poems about / on: city, green, life, sleep



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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