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A POISON TREE by: William Blake (1757-1827) 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 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 really liked this poem because it subtly gave me the idea of the picture. The writer showed how angry he was to his friend. He gave such a nice details and metaphors. He described his anger so well that the metaphors didn’t feel like comparison between two nouns, it confused me a lot when I first read it because it was really complicated and I thought the tree was real, but I eventually found out that the poison tree meant the angriness to his friend. It means so big and huge in the last Quatrain
