e. e. cummings poem
if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have one.
It will not be a pansy heaven nor
a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but
it will be a heaven of blackred roses
my father will be (deep like a rose tall like a rose)
standing near (swaying over her silent)
with eyes which are really petals and see
nothing with the face of a poet really which
is a flower and not a face with hands
which whisper
This is my beloved my (suddenly in sunlight
he will bow,
& the whole garden will bow...
- e. e. cummings
No comments:
Post a Comment