He took some little, dark-red shoes And set them near a dish of grapes; -- He loved the narrow, tilting heels And buckles set with wicked stones, -- So might a dryad tilt and laugh And peep at him through friendly leaves. He found a dish of liquid green And gold fish; then he spread them out -- Sandals as green as water weeds And other shoes of dappled skin As slender as a water snake, -- And called old Neptune: "Come and see!" He fashioned ripened sheaves of wheat Into a stock of golden grain; -- Now yellow shoes and tawny brown -- Stout shoes that Ceres might have worn If shoes had been in fashion then, And slim ones for Persephone -- To take a glimmer of the sun Into her dismal hiding place. He had no pigments but his wares: He had no canvas for his dreams. There was an artist on Broadway -- I wonder what became of him? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12 by THOMAS CAMPION THE SEA AND THE SKYLARK by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS GREENWOOD CEMETERY by CRAMMOND KENNEDY BITTERNESS by VICTORIA MARY SACKVILLE-WEST THE MAGPIES IN PICARDY by T. P. CAMERON WILSON A WOMAN SCALY by WILLIAM BLAKE THE VOICE OF THE CHRIST-CHILD by PHILLIPS BROOKS AMY'S CRUELTY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: SINCE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |