PoemChild
Author / PoetSylvia Plath
TagsContrast, Despair, Innocence, Purity

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose name you meditate —
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath
27 Oct 1932 - 11 Feb 1963
Region: North America
Period: Contemporary
Movement: Confessional
Awards: Glascock Prize, Pulitzer Prize for Poetry

more poems by Sylvia Plath

Poem NameTopic
Witch BurningEmpowerment, Feminism, History
Two Lovers And A Beachcomber By The Real SeaHouse, Ocean, Sea
TulipsEmotion, Nature, Symbolism
The JailerConfinement, Oppression, Power
The Rabbit CatcherExistentialism, Metaphor, Nature
ThalidomideEthics, Medicine, Moon
Suicide Off Egg RockDespair, Isolation, Mortality
SpinsterConfusion, Contrast, Disorder
Soliloquy Of The SolipsistExistentialism, Philosophy, Solitude
Poppies In JulyDesire, Emptiness, Frustration

all poems by Sylvia Plath

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