You Are Tired (I Think) by E.E. Cummings

You Are Tired (I Think) by E.E. Cummings
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away -
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and -
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart -
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.
#EECummings #YouAreTiredIThink #poetry #poems

[@sonampalmo3578]

I love ee even more now. He had a way with heart-felt romance AND whimsy.

[@ruzenkacicka2606]

❤💜💕

[@bwthornton]

Thank you for listening

[@B6j365]

Of your Liars???-Always!!!

[@boxfox2945]

Yes' I am tired.

[@boxfox2945]

Tired" it says to little while emphasizing so much. Gaining no relevance upon an idea, barely if at all touched. Open insurgents combine lack of necessities, with nothing for grasping palms to hold, during nightly woes. Intelling only hollow pockets tucking an empty pillow, where feminine features should rightly go. As insomnia boroughs deep into night's elongated bound. Isolation skips thoughts across an ever troubling hour, for a mind even more tightly wound. Were it left plain, logic might win. Discretion over valor, but not one justified reason is gave. In a world raising feminism's banner, to enslave. Leaving those unwanted, bitterly soured. Planning out counter stroke for all past gressions, and abandoning a world without love. They have sought every day. Only' to be denied, intimate affections. Still waiting for an Angel, to give much needed comfort in arms. Where pain and unrest disolve. Within her cherished attentions.

[@Raven1932_]

I’ll sing you the jacinth song Of the probable stars What thats mean!

[@boxfox2945]

​​@@Raven1932_think it means, the entrapment' of desires. To dream of world's, where paridise' may be, & give wishes' reality.