A tender poem of harmony and bliss--not what people are used to from Sylvia Plath. This happens to be my favorite by her--at least it's the one I read over and over again.
There isn't really anything complex about it, but the imagery and the sound of the words is very pleasant to me, and I suppose that's why I like it. Also, Sylvia's illness doesn't show itself in this poem, allowing the beauty of her craft to be the central focus. The poem also provides a bittersweet glimpse of a Sylvia and Ted so happy together that they felt as if the shapes on their furniture must envy them.
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There isn't really anything complex about it, but the imagery and the sound of the words is very pleasant to me, and I suppose that's why I like it. Also, Sylvia's illness doesn't show itself in this poem, allowing the beauty of her craft to be the central focus. The poem also provides a bittersweet glimpse of a Sylvia and Ted so happy together that they felt as if the shapes on their furniture must envy them.