English poetry

Poems in English


How sick to wait in any place but thine

How sick to wait in any place but thine
I knew last night when someone tried to twine
Thinking perhaps that I looked tired or alone
Or breaking almost with unspoken pain

And I turned ducal
That right was thine
One port suffices for a Brig like mine

Ours be the tossing wild though the sea
Rather than a Mooring unshared by thee.
Ours be the Cargo unladed here
Rather than the “spicy isles “
And thou not there


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Poem How sick to wait in any place but thine - Emily Dickinson