#sara teasdale

[mournfulroses]

Sara Teasdale, from The Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale; "Song,"

[seraphinesaintclair]

Sara Teasdale, “Summer Night, Riverside”

[petaltexturedskies]

Sara Teasdale, from "May Night" in Rivers to the Sea

[llovelymoonn]

hanif abdurraqib \\ sara teasdale love songs

kofi

[wedarkacademia]

My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts, like early flowers in an April meadow, and I must give them to you, all of them, before they fade.

— Sara Teasdale, Love Songs; A November Night

[flowerytale]

Sara Teasdale, from “The Kiss”, The Collected Poems Of Sara Teasdale

[metamorphesque]

🌼 poems (and a love letter) that helped me live through july 🌼

One Or Two Things, Mary Oliver

Kitchen Song, Laura Kasischke

The Breathing, Denise Levertov

Trapped, Charles Bukowski

Precognition, Margaret Atwood

Rain, John Burnside

Looking, Walking, Being, Denise Levertov

At Joan's, Frank O'Hara

You, Carol Ann Duffy

Time, Louise Gluck

Effort at Speech Between Two People, Muriel Rukeyser

Still, A. R. Ammons

Sonnet XL, Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sonnet XLIII, Edna St. Vincent Millay

Listen, W. S. Merwin

A Thin Line, Ryuichi Tamura (translated by Samuel Grolmes and Yumiko Tsumura)

Driveway, Richard Siken

The Sentence, Anna Akhmatova

Wanting to Die, Anne Sexton

Eating Together, Kim Addonizio

The Look, Sara Teasdale

The Starry Night, Anne Sexton

Hammond B3 Organ Cistern, Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Richard Feynman's love letter to his deceased wife, 1946

[soracities]

My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts Like early flowers in an April meadow, And I must give them to you, all of them, Before they fade.

Sara Teasdale, from “A November Night”

[apoemaday]

I Am Not Yours

by Sara Teasdale

I am not yours, not lost in you, Not lost, although I long to be Lost as a candle lit at noon, Lost as a snowflake in the sea. You love me, and I find you still A spirit beautiful and bright, Yet I am I, who long to be Lost as a light is lost in light. Oh plunge me deep in love -- put out My senses, leave me deaf and blind, Swept by the tempest of your love, A taper in a rushing wind.

[adventuresofalgy]

Like so many other creatures in the wild west Highlands of Scotland at this time of year, Algy was feeling a wee bit under the weather…

The Scotch mist had swept in, and – if the weather birds were to be believed – it looked as though it had come to stay, at least for the week ahead, if not for the entire winter. Over the weekend, Algy had had some interesting correspondence concerning the weather and light levels in various parts of the world, with some of his tumblr friends who lived in faraway places, and he wondered just how much of the west Highland experience it was possible to convey to those friends whose lives were spent in those very much drier and brighter environments…

Recalling that humans often remarked that "a picture is worth a thousand words", Algy smiled damply to himself when he considered just how many words-worth it should be possible to convey to those friends over the coming week 🌫🌧🌫

As Scotch mist occurs only in a few areas of the world, it does not tend to feature in literature in the same way as other atmospheric phenomena, but as Algy perched on the dripping twigs, scarcely bothering to lift his head to look around as the landscape had more or less vanished, he remembered a poem about fog which conveys at least some of the experience, providing you add in a very considerable amount of water…

A fog drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea— One by one the hills go out, The road and the pepper-tree. I watch the fog float in at the window With the whole world gone blind, Everything, even my longing, drowses, Even the thoughts in my mind.

[Algy is quoting the first two stanzas of the poem Gray Fog by the late 19th/early 20th century American poet Sara Teasdale.]

[litandlifequotes]

I almost gave my life long ago for a thing That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes, It is strange how often a heart must be broken, Before the years can make it wise.

"Dust" by Sara Teasdale

[mournfulroses]

Sara Teasdale, from The Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale; "Desert Pools,"

[seraphinesaintclair]

Sara Teasdale, “Love Songs”

[petaltexturedskies]

Sara Teasdale, from "I Have Loved Hours at Sea"

[llovelymoonn]

on april

barbara kingsolver demon copperhead \\ sara teasdale a november night \\ fatima aamer bilal i mother it, the absence of her ii. i was hard to bear from the very start (via @ivynightshade) \\ anne carson the glass essay (via @petaltexturedskies) \\ raymond p. fischer an aged man remembers april \\ cyrus cassells \\ anton chekhov love \\ t.s eliot the waste land \\ michelle o'sullivan the flower and the frozen sea: "bespoke"

kofi

[lepetitdragonvert]

RAINBOW GOLD

Poems old and new selected for boys and girls by Sara Teasdale

New York

The MacMillan Company

1926

Source : archive.org

Artist : Dugald Walter

The Cloud