In just - Spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee
e. e. cummingsYour slightest look easily will unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers, you open petal by petal myself a Spring opens her first rose.
e. e. cummingsTime cannot children,poets,lovers tell- measure imagine,mystery,a kiss -not though mankind would rather know than feel
e. e. cummingsthings which in my mind blossom will stumble beneath a clumsiest disguise appear capable of fragility and indecision
e. e. cummingsit may not always be so; and i say that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch his heart, as mine in time not far away; if on another's face your sweet hair lay in such a silence as i know,or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch, stand helplessly before the spirit at bay; if this should be, i say if this should be- you of my heart, send me a little word; that i may go unto him, and take his hands, saying, Accept all happiness from me. Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands.
e. e. cummings