Tuesday, March 8, 2016

You’ll know Her — by Her Foot —


You’ll know Her — by Her Foot —
The smallest Gamboge Hand
With Fingers — where the Toes should be —
Would more affront the Sand —
Than this Quaint Creature’s Boot —
Adjusted by a Stern —
Without a Button — I could vouch —
Unto a Velvet Limb —
You’ll know Her — by Her Vest —
Tight fitting — Orange — Brown —
Inside a Jacket duller —
She wore when she was born —
Her Cap is small — and snug —
Constructed for the Winds —
She’d pass for Barehead — short way off —
But as She Closer stands —
So finer ‘tis than Wool —
You cannot feel the Seam —
Nor is it Clasped unto of Band —
Nor held upon — of Brim —
You’ll know Her — by Her Voice —
At first — a doubtful Tone —
A sweet endeavor — but as March
To April — hurries on —
She squanders on your Ear
Such Arguments of Pearl —
You beg the Robin in your Brain
To keep the other — still —
Emily Dickinson
You’ll know Her — by Her Foot —
The smallest Yellow Hand
With Fingers or the Toes —
Would more defy the Sand —
Than this Pretty Creature’s Boot —
Adjusted by a Tail —
I could testify without a Button
Unto a Velvet Limb —
You’ll know Her —— by Her Vest —
Tight fitting — Orange — Brown —
Inside a duller Jacket—
She wore when she was born —
Her Cap is small and tight —
Designed for the Winds —
She’d be mistaken as almost Barehead —
But as She stands Closer—
It’s so finer than Wool —
You cannot feel the Seam —
Nor is it held closely with Band —
Nor held upon Binding —
You’ll know Her  by Her Voice —
At first — a doubtful Tone —
A sweet effort — but as March
To April — quickly —
She wastes such Songs
Nobly on your Ear—
When you remember the Robin You beg him
To keep the other silent —
The smallest Gamboge Hand
With Fingers — where the Toes should be —
Would more affront the Sand —
Than this Quaint Creature’s Boot —
Adjusted by a Stern —
Without a Button — I could vouch —
Unto a Velvet Limb —
You’ll know Her — by Her Vest —
Tight fitting — Orange — Brown —
Inside a Jacket duller —
She wore when she was born —
Her Cap is small — and snug —
Constructed for the Winds —
She’d pass for Barehead — short way off —
But as She Closer stands —
So finer ‘tis than Wool —
You cannot feel the Seam —
Nor is it Clasped unto of Band —
Nor held upon — of Brim —
You’ll know Her — by Her Voice —
At first — a doubtful Tone —
A sweet endeavor — but as March
To April — hurries on —
She squanders on your Ear
Such Arguments of Pearl —
You beg the Robin in your Brain
To keep the other — still —
Emily Dickinson
You’ll know Her — by Her Foot —
The smallest Yellow Hand
With Fingers or the Toes —
Would more defy the Sand —
Than this Pretty Creature’s Boot —
Adjusted by a Tail —
I could testify without a Button
Unto a Velvet Limb —
You’ll know Her —— by Her Vest —
Tight fitting — Orange — Brown —
Inside a duller Jacket—
She wore when she was born —
Her Cap is small and tight —
Designed for the Winds —
She’d be mistaken as almost Barehead —
But as She stands Closer—
It’s so finer than Wool —
You cannot feel the Seam —
Nor is it held closely with Band —
Nor held upon Binding —
You’ll know Her  by Her Voice —
At first — a doubtful Tone —
A sweet effort — but as March
To April — quickly —
She wastes such Songs
Nobly on your Ear—
When you remember the Robin You beg him
To keep the other silent —

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