Queen-Anne's Lace by William Carlos Williams

Queen-Anne's Lace
by William Carlos Williams




Her body is not so white as
anemone petals nor so smooth-nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
the field by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand's span
of her whiteness. Whenever
his hand has lain there is 
a tiny purple blemish. Each part
is a blossom under his touch
to which the fibres of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
until the whole field is a
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over-
or nothing. 


I like the imagist poets. They are able to utilize what they see and transform it into poetry.
A link to read more about the poet and more of his poems I have included here.http//www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/william-carlo-williams