| Home | Menu | Poems | Poets | Reading | Theme | Biography | Articles | Photo | Dictionary | Chat | Video | Shop | Extra | Jokes | Games | Science | Bio | বাংলা

Gwendolyn Brooks

My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell


I hold my honey and I store my bread
In little jars and cabinets of my will.
I label clearly, and each latch and lid
I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.
I am very hungry. I am incomplete.
And none can give me any word but Wait,
The puny light. I keep my eyes pointed in;
Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt
Drag out to their last dregs and I resume
On such legs as are left me, in such heart
As I can manage, remember to go home,
My taste will not have turned insensitive
To honey and bread old purity could love.

Gwendolyn Brooks


No comments: