My wife's new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides. All night they lie together under her bed's edge. Shivering I catch sight of them and smile, in the morning. Later I watch them descending the stair, hurrying through the doors and round the table, moving stiffly with a shake of their gay pompons! And I talk to them in my secret mind out of pure happiness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FIVE KERNELS OF CORN [APRIL, 1622] by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 5. THE INQUIRY by THOMAS HARDY SCHOOL AND SCHOOLFELLOWS; FLOREAT ETONA by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED THE MILL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON CAMPS OF GREEN by WALT WHITMAN THE BAREFOOT BOY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FRATERNITY by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH |