And when you have made up, again, or made love, for the first or thousandth time, turn to your him or her and quote, if you can, or read, if you will, from any of these poems, or from this one by Wislawa Szymborska, "Allegro Ma Non Troppo."

Life, you're beautiful (I say)
you just couldn't get more fecund,
more befrogged or nightingaily,
more anthillful or sproutspouting.
I'm trying to court life's favor,
to get into its good graces,
to anticipate its whims.
I'm always the first to bow,
always there where it can see me...

Poetry gives us what we want, on the good days, and what we need, on the bad. It is the voice of the heart and it sings in every key.

Amy Bloom is the author of two short-story collections (
 A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You and Come to Me, three novels (Love Invents Us, and Away and Where the God of Love Hangs Out), and a book of essays. No poetry whatsoever.

For the Love of Poetry


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