When all my five and country senses see, <br />The fingers will forget green thumbs and mark <br />How, through the halfmoon's vegetable eye, <br />Husk of young stars and handfull zodiac, <br />Love in the frost is pared and wintered by, <br />The whispering ears will watch love drummed away <br />Down breeze and shell to a discordant beach, <br />And, lashed to syllables, the lynx tongue cry <br />That her fond wounds are mended bitterly. <br />My nostrils see her breath burn like a bush. <br /> <br />My one and noble heart has witnesses <br />In all love's countries, that will grope awake; <br />And when blind sleep drops on the spying senses, <br />The heart is sensual, though five eyes break.<br /><br />Dylan Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-all-my-five-and-country-senses-see/
