Search

Search results

Dreamy, Katherine Mansfield, in English Clear filters

DreamyKatherine Mansfield

There Was a Child Once

There was a child once. He came to play in my garden; He was quite pale and silent. Only when he smiled I knew everything about him, I knew what he had in his pockets, And I knew the feel of his hands in my hands And the most intimate tones of his voice. I led him down each secret path, Showing him the hiding-place of all my treasures. I let him play with them, every one, I put my singing thoughts in a little silver cage And gave them to him to keep ... It was very dark in the garden But never dark enough for us. On tiptoe we walked among the deepest shades; We bathed in the shadow pools beneath the trees,
DreamyKatherine Mansfield

Jangling Memory

Heavens above! here’s an old tie of yours-- Sea-green dragons stamped on a golden ground. Ha! Ha! Ha! What children we were in those days. Do you love me enough to wear it now? Have you the courage of your pristine glories? Ha! Ha! Ha! You laugh and shrug your shoulders. Those were the days when a new tie spelt a fortune: We wore it in turn--I flaunted it as a waist-belt. Ha! Ha! Ha! What easily satisfied babies. “I think I’ll turn it into a piano duster.” “Give it to me, I’ll polish my slippers on it!” Ha! Ha! Ha! The rag’s not worth the dustbin. “Throw the shabby old thing right out of the window; Fling it into the faces of other children!” Ha! Ha! Ha! We laughed and laughed till the tears came!
DreamyKatherine Mansfield

The Opal Dream Cave

In an opal dream cave I found a fairy: Her wings were frailer than flower petals, Frailer far than snowflakes. She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand. I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner. I carried her out of the opal cave, Then opened my hands. First she became thistledown, Then a mote in a sunbeam, Then--nothing at all. Empty now is my opal dream cave.
DreamyKatherine Mansfield

The Earth-Child in the Grass

In the very early morning Long before Dawn time I lay down in the paddock And listened to the cold song of the grass. Between my fingers the green blades, And the green blades pressed against my body. “Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?” Sang the grass. “Why does she weep on my bosom, Mingling her tears with the tears of my mystic lover? Foolish little earth child! It is not yet time. One day I shall open my bosom And you shall slip in--but not weeping. Then in the early morning Long before Dawn time
DreamyKatherine Mansfield

The Awakening River

The gulls are mad-in-love with the river, And the river unveils her face and smiles. In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings. She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her. He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her. There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter. Be careful, my beautiful waking one! you will catch on fire. Wheeling and flying with the foam of the sea on their breasts, The ineffable mists of the sea clinging to their wild wings, Crying the rapture of the boundless ocean, The gulls are mad-in-love with the river. Wake! we are the dream thoughts flying from your heart. Wake! we are the songs of desire flowing from your bosom.

Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem

Or try: