MY baby has a mottled fist, My baby has a neck in creases; My baby kisses and is kissed, For he's the very thing for kisses. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORLD AS WILL AND REPRESENTATION' by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOREST FLOWERS by ROBERT FROST FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL IN 'DESIGNING A CLOAK TO CLOAK HIS DESIGNS' YOU WRESTED FROM OBLIVION by MARIANNE MOORE |