The Poetry Corner

Honey Dripping From The Comb

By James Whitcomb Riley

How slight a thing may set one's fancy drifting Upon the dead sea of the Past! - A view - Sometimes an odor - or a rooster lifting A far-off "Ooh! ooh-ooh!" And suddenly we find ourselves astray In some wood's-pasture of the Long Ago - Or idly dream again upon a day Of rest we used to know. I bit an apple but a moment since - A wilted apple that the worm had spurned. - Yet hidden in the taste were happy hints Of good old days returned. - And so my heart, like some enraptured lute, Tinkles a tune so tender and complete, God's blessing must be resting on the fruit - So bitter, yet so sweet!