1. Just Mound the House, Early in the Morning Though I have been scorned for it, let me never be afraid to use the word beautiful. For within is the shining leaf and the blossoms of the geranium at the window. And the eyes of the happy puppy as he wakes. The colors of the old and beloved afghan lying by itself, on the couch, in the morning sun. The hummingbird's nest perched now in a corner of the bookshelf, in front of so many books of so many colors. The two poached eggs. The buttered toast. The ream of brand-new paper just opened, white as a block of snow. The typewriter humming, ready to go.
Just Mound the House, Early in the Morning.
Oliver, Mary (American poet)
1. Just Mound the House, Early in the Morning Though I have been scorned for it, let me never be afraid to use the word beautiful. For within is the shining leaf and the blossoms of the geranium at the window. And the eyes of the happy puppy as he wakes. The colors of the old and beloved afghan lying by itself, on the couch, in the morning sun. The hummingbird's nest perched now in a corner of the bookshelf, in front of so many books of so many colors. The two poached eggs. The buttered toast. The ream of brand-new paper just opened, white as a block of snow. The typewriter humming, ready to go.