I had forgotten what it was to wake With days for spending, days like minted gold Wherewith to buy back beauty known in youth. I had forgotten how the flowers break Wide open while the dim dawn still is cold And lonely from night's passing, Time has sold My credulous senses many a counterfeit, But now I know the feigned thing from the truth And make swift purchase though the buying's late. Look! Here's a minted hour with a date Dawn cut there with her last star's pointed spear, It buys the thing that makes awakening dear And rising beautiful. It buys the chair Before the mirror (like a tilted lake) In just the place I like to brush my hair And listen to the wrens beneath the eaves, And watch the warm breeze loitering to shake The apple-blossoms downward through the leaves. It buys the household stir which soon ensues; The kitchen noises and the breakfast smell; The cheerful sound of children in the tub, Calling to me for towels or for shoes Forgotten or mislaid! I cannot tell The joy I have in linen on the shelves This early hour, so smugly piled in twelves Seeming to @3wait@1 to wipe, to @3yearn@1 to rub! Old wandering Time, your wallet I purloin And spend this hour as though it were a coin! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEXTER GORDON: COPENHAGEN/AVERY FISHER HALL by KAREN SWENSON LEMON PIE by EDGAR ALBERT GUEST THE SANDS OF DEE by CHARLES KINGSLEY A BALLAD OF LONDON (TO H.W. MASSINGHAM) by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: BENJAMIN PANTIER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FOUR PRELUDES ON PLAYTHINGS OF THE WIND by CARL SANDBURG SONNET: 78 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |