and a pretty pic by OR Photography (from Ohio) see more here.
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.
by Sarah Teasdale
My favourtie line: "lost as a candle lit at noon."
sometimes the mind of a woman finds me wandering around mental maizes and I am often bafflingly surprised by the twists & turns I find.
Go Sarah! (this remarkable woman was born in 1884 and passed away in 1933)
Read this beautiful write-up of her by the "Poetry Foundation"
Critics found much of Teasdale's poetry to be unsophisticated
but full of musical language and evocative emotion.
A New York Times Book Review contributor, writing about the 1917 edition of Love Songs, asserted that "Miss Teasdale is first, last, and always a singer."
Reviewing the 1915 volume Rivers to the Sea, another New York Times Book Review contributor deemed the book "a little volume of joyous and unstudied song."
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