Pages

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Poemaday #4

One of my favorite poems, although I have no idea why.  Just seems so lovely and sad, with beautiful imagery.

Sonnet XVIII
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please use your first name or a username when commenting. The conversation will have an easier flow if we don't have a bunch of anonymous comments. Thank you!