When my eyes are weeds,
And my lips are petals, spinning
Down the wind that has beginning
Where the crumpled beeches start
In a fringe of salty reeds;
When my arms are elder-bushes,
And the rangy lilac pushes
Upward, upward through my heart;
Summer, do your worst!
Light your tinsel moon, and call on
Your performing stars to fall on
Headlong through your paper sky;
Nevermore shall I be cursed
By a flushed and amorous slattern,
With her dusty laces’ pattern
Trailing, as she straggles by.
(Dorothy Parker)
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Based on Topics: Light Poems, Summer Poems, Weeds PoemsBased on Keywords: crumpled, performing, laces, nevermore, beeches, pushes, tinsel, slattern, straggles, rangy, elder-bushes