The languorous thighs of the morning stretch themselves in sleep, and one eye just peers over the edge of white comforters, vaguely to discover the paramour flown, without plea of leave-taking or hypocritical excuse, to the Orient, as the fellow's shadow betrays: whither, with an irate mien and thighs sprouting wings, she pursues him: for, once you've had them, they're no longer backward, the women who forget they were ladies! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WISE WOMAN by LOUIS UNTERMEYER HOLY SONNET: ANNUNCIATION by JOHN DONNE ITALY SWEET TOO! by JOHN KEATS THE TWINS by HENRY SAMBROOKE LEIGH SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DAISY FRASER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A REQUIEM FOR SOLDIERS LOST IN OCEAN TRANSPORTS by HERMAN MELVILLE |