Rita Dove


The Secret Garden


I was ill, lying on my bed of old papers,
when you came with white rabbits in your arms;
and the doves scattered upwards, flying to mothers,
and the snails sighed under their baggage of stone . . .

Now your tongue grows like celery between us:
Because of our love-cries, cabbage darkens in its nest;
the cauliflower thinks of her pale, plump children
and turns greenish-white in a light like the ocean's.

I was sick, fainting in the smell of teabags,
when you came with tomatoes, a good poetry.
I am being wooed. I am being conquered
by a cliff of limestone that leaves chalk on my breasts.

Submitted: Monday, October 21, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Do you like this poem?
1 person liked.
1 person did not like.

Form:


Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Secret Garden by Rita Dove )

Read all 1 comments »

Famous Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  3. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  4. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  8. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
Trending Poets
Trending Poems
  1. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  2. First Fig, Edna St. Vincent Millay
  3. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  4. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  5. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  6. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If, Rudyard Kipling
  8. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
[Hata Bildir]