Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Poetry Riddle

From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin.
No lady alive can show such a skin.
I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.

Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear,
Yet many poor creatures I help to insnare.
Though so much of Heaven appears in my make,
The foulest impressions I easily take.


  1. Snow? Or volcanic ash, I suppose.

  2. Snow is what the poem was speaking of. I hadn't thought of ash, but that's certainly relevant these days.

  3. i thought it was grapes! as in, making wine


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