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Poets make pets of pretty, docile words:
I love smooth words, like gold-enamelled fish
Which circle slowly with a silken swish,
And tender ones, like downy-feathered birds:
Words shy and dappled, deep-eyed deer in herds,
Come to my hand, and playful if I wish,
Or purring softly at a silver dish,
Blue Persian kittens fed on cream and curds.
I love bright words, words up and singing early;
Words that are luminous in the dark, and sing;
Warm lazy words, white cattle under trees;
I love words opalescent, cool, and pearly,
Like midsummer moths, and honied words like bees,
Gilded and sticky, with a little sting.
This poem is in the public domain.
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Elinor Wylie (1885 - 1928) was an American poet and novelist. Born in New Jersey to a socially prominent family, Elinor was beautiful, clever, charming, and talented, yet her personal life was filled with trauma and disastrous relationships. Poetry editor of Vanity Fair magazine for a time, Elinor was praised by critics and readers alike for her creative output, if not her ethics; her poetry was called "brilliant" and "genius," and her novels termed "sensitive" and "romantic." Plagued throughout her adult life with high blood pressure, Elinor died of a stroke at the age of 43.
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