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
- Владимир Британишский – Лохматую белую собаку
- Альфред Теннисон – Странствия Мальдуна
- Making Light Of It by Philip Levine
- The Fairy’s Gift poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Shadow Of Liberty by Vattacharja Chandan
- Mother Earth; Her Beauty And Her Destruction by TMBedell
- Олег Бундур – Дождь
- Homing by Satish Verma
- Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault by William Shakespeare
- Олег Бундур – Железное здоровье
- Human Charms
- English Poetry. Richard Hovey. John Keats. Ричард Хави.
- His Poetry His Pillar by Robert Herrick
- Sonnet # 17 by Luis A. Estable
- Money, for a Decent Human Life without You by Mike Yuan
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).
