Some days my thoughts are just cocoons -- all cold, and dull, and blind, They hang from dripping branches in the grey woods of my mind; And other days they drift and shine -- such free and flying things! I find the gold-dust in my hair, left by their brushing wings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALL RELIGIONS ARE ONE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 6 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO A CHILD OF QUALITY, FIVE YEARS OLD. THE AUTHOR THAN FORTY by MATTHEW PRIOR TWO POEMS TO HANS THOMA ON HIS SIXIETH BIRTHDAY: 2. THE KNIGHT by RAINER MARIA RILKE THE FIGHT OF THE ARMSTRONG PRIVATEER by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE IN AN ALBUM by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS A RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |