A Poison Tree My Papa’s Waltz By William Blake By Theodore Roethke I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. The whiskey on your breath I was angry with my foe: Could make a small boy dizzy; I told it not, my wrath did grow. But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. And I watered it in fears We romped until the pans Night and morning with my tears, Slid from the kitchen shelf; And I sunned it with smiles My mother's countenance And with soft deceitful wiles. Could not unfrown itself. And it grew both day and night, The hand that held my wrist Till it bore an apple bright, Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed And my foe beheld it shine, My right ear scraped a buckle. And he knew that it was mine - You beat time on my head And into my garden stole With a palm caked hard by dirt, When the night had veiled the pole; Then waltzed me off to bed In the morning, glad, I see Still clinging to your shirt. My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
A Poison Tree By William Blake I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears Night and morning with my tears, And I sunned it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright, And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine - And into my garden stole When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning, glad, I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree. My Papa’s Waltz By Theodore Roethke The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt.
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