I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
~Sylvia Plath
sometimes sweet. sometimes sour.
4 comments:
you are ummmmm ....Jenna?!!!
stay away from the oven. that's an order.
I love it. Though I never thought Sylvia Plath and a nice poem about pregnancy would go together.
away from the oven? but that would mean no baking!
anyway, i don't think i could bend over enough to get my head in the oven, even if i were crazy enough to want to!
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