Oh that my soul a marrow-bone might seize! For the old egg of my desire is broken, Spilled is the pearly white and spilled the yolk, and As the mild melancholy contents grease My path the shorn lamb baas like bumblebees. Time's trashy purse is as a taken token Or like a thrilling recitation, spoken By mournful mouths filled full of mirth and cheese. And yet, why should I clasp the earthful urn? Or find the frittered fig that felt the fast? Or choose to chase the cheese around the churn? Or swallow any pill from out the past? Ah, no Love, not while your hot kisses burn Like a potato riding on the blast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN NOT OUR GOOD LUCK by ROBINSON JEFFERS LITTLE SON by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SEPULCHRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 3. TEESTAY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |