on the plethora of dryads - sylvia plath lyrics
hearing a white saint rave
about a quintessential beauty
visible only to the paragon heart
i tried my sight on an apple*tree
that for eccentric kn*b and wart
had all my love
without meat or drink i sat
starving my fantasy down
to discover that metaphysical tree which hid
from my worldling look its brilliant vein
far deeper in gross wood
than axe could cut
but before i might blind sense
to see with the spotless soul
each particular quirk so ravished me
every pock and stain bulked more beautiful
than flesh of any body
flawed by love’s prints
battle however i would
to break through that patchwork
of leaves’ bicker and whisk in babel tongues
streak and mottle of tawn bark
no visionary lightnings
pierced my dense lid
instead, a wanton fit
dragged each dazzled sense apart
surfeiting eye, ear, taste, touch, smell;
now, snared by this miraculous art
i ride earth’s burning carrousel
day in, day out
and such grit corrupts my eyes
i must watch sl*ttish dryads twitch
their multifarious silks in the holy grove
until no chaste tree but suffers blotch
under flux of those seductive
reds, greens, blues
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