Autumn Valentine

Dorothy Parker

In May my heart was breaking—
  Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
  And sore it split in sleep.

And when it came November,
  I sought my heart, and sighed,
“Poor thing, do you remember?”
  “What heart was that?” it cried.

Next 10 Poems

• Dorothy Parker : Ballade At Thirty-five
• Dorothy Parker : Ballade Of A Great Weariness
• Dorothy Parker : Ballade Of A Talked-off Ear
• Dorothy Parker : Ballade Of Unfortunate Mammals
• Dorothy Parker : Bohemia
• Dorothy Parker : Braggart
• Dorothy Parker : Bric-a-brac
• Dorothy Parker : But Not Forgotten
• Dorothy Parker : Chant For Dark Hours
• Dorothy Parker : Charles Dickens

Previous 10 Poems

• Dorothy Parker : Autobiography
• Dorothy Parker : August
• Dorothy Parker : Anecdote
• Dorothy Parker : Alfred, Lord Tennyson
• Dorothy Parker : Alexandre Dumas And His Son
• Dorothy Parker : Afternoon
• Dorothy Parker : After Spanish Proverb
• Dorothy Parker : A Well-worn Story
• Dorothy Parker : A Very Short Song
• Dorothy Parker : A Portrait