Finding the Words

Shared from A-Poem-A-Day at Poets.org, December 16, 2012
This Living Hand

Fresh Snow in Conneticut

Fresh Snow in Conneticut (Photo credit: Felix63)

by John Keats

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calmed–see here it is–
I hold it towards you.

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About Yousei Hime

This is the journal of a poetic rabbit. Within the warren you'll find poetry, short stories, essays, art, book and movie reviews, and other odds and ends. If you happen to meet the fey princess, be courteous. This rabbit did and was forever changed.
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4 Responses to Finding the Words

  1. ManicDdaily says:

    Beautiful poem. Thanks for posting. k.

If you leave tracks, I'll find you.

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