Reading Time: < 1 minute

Poem

691

Would you like summer? Taste of ours.
Spices? Buy here!
Ill! We have berries, for the parching!
Weary! Furloughs of down!
Perplexed! Estates of violet trouble ne’er looked on!
Captive! We bring reprieve of roses!
Fainting! Flasks of air!
Even for Death, a fairy medicine.
But, which is it, sir?

Short Poem Analysis

"Would you like summer? Taste of ours" by Emily Dickinson is a brief yet evocative poem that captures the essence of a joyful and blissful experience. Through its imaginative language and vivid imagery, the poem invites readers to share in a sensory and emotional journey.

The poem's title suggests an offer of summer's delights, prompting the reader to imagine what it would be like to partake in a season of warmth and abundance. This opening line engages the reader's curiosity and sets the stage for the poem's vivid descriptions.

The poem employs sensory imagery to convey the sensory pleasures of summer. Phrases such as "dews," "aroma," "sugar" and "ample grown" evoke a vivid and tangible experience of the senses. This imagery not only paints a picture of summer's abundance but also engages the reader's taste, smell, and touch.

Throughout the poem, Dickinson's language is characterized by its simplicity and economy of words. This concise style allows for a quick and immersive sensory experience, heightening the impact of the imagery.

The poem's playful and imaginative tone invites readers to engage in the act of imaginative visualization. The question posed by the speaker becomes an invitation to imagine the delights of summer as if they were being shared firsthand.

"Would you like summer? Taste of ours" showcases Dickinson's ability to create a vivid sensory experience through language. The poem's combination of simple words and rich imagery allows readers to momentarily escape into the world of summer's delights. The poem captures the essence of sharing joy and experience through language, inviting readers to savor the pleasures of the season through the power of imagination.

Previous Poem
Wolfe Demanded During Dying
Next Poem
You Constituted Time