Here’s an excerpt from D.H.Lawrence’s Dog Tired. A beautiful poem I came across today and felt compelled to re-read several times.
“If she would come to me here […]
We could gather up the dry hay from
The hill-brow, and lie quite still, till the green
Sky ceased to quiver, and lost its active sheen.
I should like to drop
On the hay, with my head on her knee,
And lie dead still, while she
Breathed quiet above me; and the crop
Of stars grew silently.
I should like to lie still
As if I was dead; but feeling
Her hand go stealing
Over my face and my head, until
This ache was shed.”
I found a copy of the entire poem on allpoetry.com. Enjoy.