Sunday, May 18, 2008

A poem from that incomparable sonneteer, Edna St. Vincent Millay ...


The Dream

Love, if I weep it will not matter,
  And if you laugh I shall not care;
Foolish am I to think about it,
  But it is good to feel you there.

Love, in my sleep I dreamed of waking, --
  White and awful the moonlight reached
Over the floor, and somewhere, somewhere,
  There was a shutter loose, -- it screeched!

Swung in the wind, -- and no wind blowing! --
  I was afraid, and turned to you,
Put out my hand to you for comfort, --
  And you were gone!  Cold, cold as dew,

Under my hand the moonlight lay!
  Love, if you laugh I shall not care,
But if I weep it will not matter, --
  Ah, it is good to feel you there!

 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I really really enjoyed this sonnet - and that's pretty rare because I never really get the meter correct in the sonnets I make. But this was stunning, I'm glad you posted it, because I'd never be able to read it otherwise.

- Chandni