I first tasted under Apollo’s lips,
love and love sweetness,
I, Evadne;
my hair is made of crisp violets
or hyacinth which the wind combs back
across some rock shelf;
I, Evadne,
was made of the god of light.
His hair was crisp to my mouth,
as the flower of the crocus,
across my cheek,
cool as the silver-cress
on Erotos bank;
between my chin and throat,
his mouth slipped over and over.
Still between my arm and shoulder,
I feel the brush of his hair,
and my hands keep the gold they took,
as they wandered over and over,
that great arm-full of yellow flowers.
(Hilda Doolittle)
More Poetry from Hilda Doolittle:
Hilda Doolittle Poems based on Topics: Flowers, Love, Light, Gold, God, Hair- Orchard (Hilda Doolittle Poems)
- Wash of Cold River (Hilda Doolittle Poem)
- The Mysteries Remain (Hilda Doolittle Poem)
- The Pool (Hilda Doolittle Poem)
- Pear Tree (Hilda Doolittle Poem)
- Sea Poppies (Hilda Doolittle Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, God Poems, Light Poems, Flowers Poems, Gold Poems, Hair PoemsBased on Keywords: chin, sweetness, brush, wandered, shelf, slipped, violets, apollo, hyacinth, tasted, crisp