Zoë A Portrait
When Zoë turns to look or speak,
We feel a spell the heart beguile.
Dwells it in pure transparent cheek;
In laughing eye, or frolic smile?
Dwells it in frank, yet well-bred, air;
Dwells it in habit, choice, but simple;
Lurks it in ringlet of her hair;
Or shifts it with the shifting dimple?
No!—These are not her spells from Love;
Only the lesser charms he uses;
Slight witcheries the sense to move;
His baits—his pitfalls—and his nooses.
Yet these have oft betrayed the wise—
But she hath deeper spells than these:
A temper, gay as summer skies,
Yet gentle as the vernal breeze.
And blushes, quick that come—and go,
As feeling wakens or reposes,
When neck and cheek and forehead glow,
Like one wide bed of open'd roses.
And ready wit, of playful dealing;
Or—if some tale of grief betide—
As ready tear; which, while outstealing,
She—shyly still—attempts to hide.
John Kenyon's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Zoë A Portrait by John Kenyon )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Double Standards, Terry Dawson
- Goodbye, Rockford, Michael Shutt
- First Memory of Urinals, Roger A. Rose
- Time heals, salma. torrez
- A cowardly disguise, Cheryl Butler
- Are Farm Animals Like Humans? ……. [spe.., Bri Edwards
- Vows Broken, The Zentire World Missed L.., Monk E. Biz
- ONE MORE TIME, Romeo Della Valle
- Why Must You Own Me?, Monk E. Biz
- Crescent Cradle, Saiom Shriver