POEM ~ Sonnet 29, from Sonnets from the Portugese (1845-6) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

    Sonnet Twenty-Nine 
    from Sonnets from the Portugese 
    by Elizabeth Barrett Browning 


    I think of thee -- my thoughts do twine and bud 
    About thee, as wild vines, about a tree 
    Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see 
    Except the straggling green which hides the wood, 
    Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood 
    I will not have my thoughts instead of thee 
    Who art dearer; better rather instantly 
    Renew thy presence. As a strong tree should, 
    Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare, 
    And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee 
    Drop heavily down -- burst, shattered, everywhere. 
    Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee 
    And breathe within thy shadow a new air, 
    I do not think of thee -- I am too near thee. 



    So much to say, cannot seem to find them. People who speak to me infrequently, some I barely know, and seem closer to me than family who live a few minutes walk away and I never speak to at all. 

    Who am I to complain? 

    kerk