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Precious to Me-She still shall be-
Though She forget the name I bear-
The fashion of the Gown I wear-
The very Color of My Hair-
So like the Meadows-now-
I dared to show a Tress of Theirs
If haply-She might not despise
A Buttercup's Array-
I know the Whole-obscures the Part-
The fraction-that appeased the Heart
Till Number's Empery-
Remembered-as the Millner's flower
When Summer's Everlasting Dower-
Confronts the dazzled Bee.
Precious To Me-she Still Shall Be
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: flower, hair, heart, summer, precious, fashion, forget, color, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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