Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WILD PEACHES, by ELINOR WYLIE Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: When the world turns completely upside down Last Line: And sleepy winter, like the sleep of death. Alternate Author Name(s): Benet, William Rose, Mrs. Variant Title(s): "when The World Turns Completely Upside Down""; Subject(s): Fruit; Nature; Peaches; Seasons | ||||||||
1 When the world turns completely upside down You say we'll emigrate to the eastern shore Aboard a riverboat from Baltimore; We'll live among wild peach trees, miles from town, You'll wear a coonskin cap, and I a gown Homespun, dyed butternut's dark gold colour. Lost, like your lotus-eating ancestor, We'll swim in milk and honey till we drown. The winter will be short, the summer long, The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot, Tasting of cider and of scuppernong; All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all. The squirrels in their silver fur will fall Like failing leaves, like fruit, before your shot. 2 The autumn frosts will lie upon the grass Like bloom on grapes of purple-brown and gold. The misted early mornings will be cold; The little puddles will be roofed with glass. The sun, which burns from copper into brass, Melts these at noon, and makes the boys unfold Their knitted mufflers; full as they can hold, Fat pockets dribble chestnuts as they pass. Peaches grow wild, and pigs can live in clover; A barrel of salted herrings lasts a year; The spring begins before the winter's over. By February you may find the skins Of garter snakes and water moccasins Dwindled and harsh, dead-white and cloudy-clear. 3 When April pours the colours of a shell Upon the hills, when every little creek Is shot with silver from the Chesapeake In shoals new-minted by the ocean swell, When strawberries go begging, and the sleek Blue plums lie open to the blackbird's beak, We shall live well -- we shall live very well. The months between the cherries and the peaches Are brimming cornucopias which spill Fruits red and purple, sombre-bloomed and black; Then, down rich fields and frosty river beaches We'll trample bright persimmons, while you kill Bronze partridge, speckled quail, and canvasback. 4 Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones There's something in this richness that I hate. I love the look, austere, immaculate, Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones. There's something in my very blood that owns Bare hills, cold silver on a sky of slate, A thread of water, churned to milky spate Streaming through slanted pastures fenced with stones. I love those skies, thin blue or snowy gray, Those fields sparse-planted, rendering meagre sheaves; That spring, briefer than apple-blossom's breath, Summer, so much too beautiful to stay, Swift autumn, like a bonfire of leaves, And sleepy winter, like the sleep of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO AUTUMN IN MY COUNTRY by MEENA ALEXANDER AFTER TU FU (THEY SAY YOU'RE STAYING IN A MOUNTAIN TEMPLE) by MARVIN BELL HE HAD A GOOD YEAR by MARVIN BELL SO IT'S TODAY by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR CONTRA MORTEM: THE FALL by HAYDEN CARRUTH BRONZE TRUMPETS AND SEA WATER; ON TURNING LATIN VERSE INTO ENGLISH by ELINOR WYLIE |
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