To Dorothy
by Marvin Bell
You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
And a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
Of a windy night, it brushes the wall
And sweeps away the day till we sleep.
A child said it, and it seemed true:
“Things that are lost are all equal.”
But it isn’t true. If I lost you,
The air wouldn’t move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn’t be yours. If I lost you,
I’d have to ask the grass to let me sleep.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Martha Washington by Sidney Lanier
- Олег Бундур – Просьба
- Robert Burns: Damon And Sylvia: Fragment
- Another on the said Occasion by Robert Burns
- Before you go a little way prospecting by T. Wignesan
- A Rhyme About an Electrical Advertising Sign by Vachel Lindsay
- Ghazal to Pera Belle by Serkan Engin
- Orlando Furioso Canto 22 by Ludovico Ariosto
- St Ives by Roald Dahl
- Sonnet Iv
- The Withering Of The Boughs by William Butler Yeats
- Владимир Маяковский – Неделя фронта (РОСТА)
- Ode To Psyche poem – John Keats poems
- STRIPED NOTHINGS by Satish Verma
- To a Lady on Her Coming to North-America by Phillis Wheatley
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
