And I sunned it with my smiles

A Poison Tree

BY WILLIAM BLAKE

I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears

Night and morning with my tears,

And I sunned it with my smiles

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright,

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine, --

And into my garden stole

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning, glad, I see

My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

I was messing around on different poetry sites today and this one greatly stood out to me. You don't usually see many poems about revenge. Pain, love, melancholy? Yes. But revenge? No. Thought I'd share it with you all on this rainy night in Georgia!

Photo from Igor + Andre