Poetry As You Like It: In Riddles
I’m a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf’s big with its yeasty rising.
Money’s new-minted in this fat purse.
I’m a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.
Metaphors by Sylvia Plath
Photo by decrepitude on DeviantArt.
What’s it about? Resist the temptation of resorting to the Almighty Google and test your creativity.
There is no write or wrong. There is only what you feel and how you perceive poetry. The beauty is we’ve all had different experience that make each interpretation unique.
It’s true, we were taught to interpret poetry only according to literary studies. For once, cast them aside! Write your own literary interpretation of this poem below.
No related posts.
About Le Poissonchat: If she wasn't a catfish, she'd probably be a hyperactive bookworm; but she's an energetic person interested in what is and what isn't a good read, a worthwhile piece of art or an out of the ordinary movie. Whether a subject is underwater, underground, above ground or up on cloud nine she'll find it and write it.