Child by Sylvia Plath

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Child

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose name you meditate --
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

Sylvia Plath

Read poems about / on: april, star, beautiful, dark, child, children

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Roger Cornish (2/8/2008 7:21:00 PM)
How about.... read it... enjoy it.... interpret it......
forget the 6th form stuff.... some of us don't give a hoot about academia!
Roger X.

Joyce Oke (5/14/2007 5:12:00 PM)
In your opinion, is this a hopeful or depressing poem? Explain answer by referring to the poem.

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