A Perfect Form
I stopped and stooped the other day,
I don’t know why, I’m sorry I just can’t say!
I held a daisy in my hand; it looked so small and fragile,
And then, as if not seen before, it did beguile
Me with its beauty. As I looked and did behold,
The perfect form and symmetry made of white and gold.
I held it for an age and could not let go.
Its wonderment filled my breast, flooding me so,
With tears. I just cannot explain the joys I felt,
I beheld its wondrous beauty, as I dwelt,
This perfect almost secret form, unseen by the daily eye.
Given not a second thought, as humans passed it by.
Please take advice, if you would, and you will prosper, tarry a while.
Cup carefully your hand, around bloom and leaf, believe, you will smile,
Or shed a tear or two.
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Comments about this poem (A Perfect Form by George Howard )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost