it is at moments after i have dreamed <br />of the rare entertainment of your eyes, <br />when(being fool to fancy)i have deemed <br /> <br />with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise; <br />at moments when the glassy darkness holds <br /> <br />the genuine apparition of your smile <br />(it was through tears always)and silence moulds <br />such strangeness as was mine a little while; <br /> <br />moments when my once more illustrious arms <br />are filled with fascination,when my breast <br />wears the intolerant brightness of your charms: <br /> <br />one pierced moment whiter than the rest <br /> <br />-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep <br />i watch the roses of the day grow deep.<br /><br />Edward Estlin Cummings<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-is-at-moments-after-i-have-dreamed-2/
