I have not forgotten our little white retreat
Where we were neighbors to the town of busy streets;
Our plaster Venus and Pomona barely could
Conceal their nakedness within our meagre wood.
Evenings, the sun would stream superbly, and would splash
Prismatic colors through the simple window glass;
He seemed a curious eye in overarching space
Who watched us as we dined in silence, without haste,
And spread throughout the room a mellow candle-glow
On frugal drapes of serge, the tablecloth below.
I Have Not Forgotten Our Little White Retreat
Charles Baudelaire
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Poem topics: silence, space, sun, white, room, town, candle, simple, busy, window, spread, glass, stream, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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