I recently found this beautiful little poem from e.e. cummings, who happens to be one of my favorite poets. His writing is so fanciful and unique with beautifully odd pairings of words and fun syntax, movement, and presence on the page.
In The Rain-
in the rain-
darkness, the sunset
being sheathed i sit and
think of you
the holy
city which is your face
your little cheeks the streets
of smiles
your eyes half-
thrush
half-angel and your drowsy
lips where float flowers of kiss
and
there is the sweet shy pirouette
your hair
and then
your dancesong
soul. rarely-beloved
a single star is
uttered,and i
think
of you