(no subject)

[novapsyche]

Cliff Klingenhagen
by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Cliff Klingenhagen had me in to dine
With him one day; and after soup and meat,
And all the other things there were to eat,
Cliff took two glasses and filled one with wine
And one with wormwood. Then, without a sign
For me to choose at all, he took the draught
Of bitterness himself, and lightly quaffed
It off, and said the other one was mine.

And when I asked him what the deuce he meant
By doing that, he only looked at me
And smiled, and said it was a way of his.
And though I know the fellow, I have spent
Long time a-wondering when I shall be
As happy as Cliff Klingenhagen is.

Comments

[novapsyche.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you like my writing style. This, however, is not a poem by me. It's by Edwin Arlington Robinson. I came across it today in my reading and I really like his style.

If you like other stuff I've written (check out my memories for example), though, then please befriend me. :) I think I'm back into the groove of writing.

[hopeevey.livejournal.com]

I think I'm back into the groove of writing.

Yay!!

[novapsyche.livejournal.com]

*smile* I may be jumping the gun, but we'll see how things progress during this next week.