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Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head,
And drink your rushing words with eager lips,
And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red,
And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
When you rehearse your list of loves to me,
Oh, I can laugh and marvel, rapturous-eyed.
And you laugh back, nor can you ever see
The thousand little deaths my heart has died.
And you believe, so well I know my part,
That I am gay as morning, light as snow,
And all the straining things within my heart
You'll never know.
Oh, I can laugh and listen, when we meet,
And you bring tales of fresh adventurings, --
Of ladies delicately indiscreet,
Of lingering hands, and gently whispered things.
And you are pleased with me, and strive anew
To sing me sagas of your late delights.
Thus do you want me -- marveling, gay, and true,
Nor do you see my staring eyes of nights.
And when, in search of novelty, you stray,
Oh, I can kiss you blithely as you go ....
And what goes on, my love, while you're away,
You'll never know.
Dorothy Parker
Read poems about / on: believe, snow, kiss, smile, red, light, heart
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (A Certain Lady by Dorothy Parker)
Naveed Akram (4/23/2008 3:09:00 PM)
This is a poetic feeling expressed about the beautiful lady that is to be your very own. Words can run marvellously from the lips, and thoughts can be contrived after much meaningful talk. It is straightforward in its look, with relevant words according to the aim of a woman. Listening from this woman has collected a great deal of knowledge too eager for people in general.
In the space of two stanzas a great schism has been revealed. It must be resolved. Pleasing is the sense of this poem, as a poem about love and passion. It is like an exposure of woman’s thinking, and what the thoughts are in their appearance. Indeed, the whole poem is rather gay and complimenting. |
Dimitri Alexis (7/22/2006 11:47:00 AM)
My heart aches for the women I have loved, and those to come. Alcohol clouds my mind at this time. There is an emptiness, I am always searching, learning and not understanding. Yet, there is still hope. My hands yearn to touch the face of one I haven't met... Save me from myself, I am love. |
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Dorothy Parker
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