A Form Of Women
I have come far enough
from where I was not before
to have seen the things
looking in at me from through the open door
and have walked tonight
to see the moonlight
and see it as trees
and shapes more fearful
because I feared
what I did not know
but have wanted to know.
My facd is my own, I thought.
But you have seen it
turn into a thousand years.
I watched you cry.
I could not touch you.
I wanted very much to
but could not.
If it is dark
when this is given to you,
have care for its content
when the moon shines.
My face is my own.
My hands are my own.
My mouth is my own
but I am not.
whn you leave me alone
all the darkness is
an utter blackness,
a pit of fear,
never to touch.
But I love you.
Do you love me.
What to say
when you see me.
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Comments about this poem (A Form Of Women by Robert Creeley )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Albert Guest
(20 August 1881 - 5 August 1959)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
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- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
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