#sarateasdale

[quietone317]

Sara Teasdale

Now and then I just love pulling out my Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale.  Sara was a popular poet in her days but time hasn’t been kind to her sometimes. For awhile her books were out of print but lately they are being published again. 

Enjoy.

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Winter Stars

I went out at night alone; The young blood flowing beyond the sea Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings— I bore my sorrow heavily. But when I lifted up my head From shadows shaken on the snow, I saw Orion in the east Burn steadily as long ago. From windows in my father’s house, Dreaming my dreams on winter nights, I watched Orion as a girl Above another city’s lights. Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too, The world’s heart breaks beneath its wars, All things are changed, save in the east The faithful beauty of the stars.

I Shall not Care

When I am dead and over me bright April Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care. I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough, And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now.

*****

The Broken Field

My soul is a dark ploughed field    In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field    Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers    Were growing, The field lies broken now    For another sowing. Great Sower when you tread   My field again, Scatter the furrows there   With better grain.

[ruthdecaesstecker]

Stephen kissed me in the spring, Robin in the fall, But Colin only looked at me And never kissed at all. Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest, Robin’s lost in play, But the kiss in Colin’s eyes Haunts me night and day... #sarateasdale #aboutlove #poetry #sunrise #wild #tulips #wanderlust #pentax #analogue #35mm #kodak #film #ishootfilm #analog #female #filmphotography

[anchishen]

My very FIRST Google Doodle project!

ft. Poet- Sara Teasdale

[righttotruth]

Sara Teasdale's Birth Anniversary

[jana-hallford]

April Morning

Here's an April poem by the American lyric poet Sara Teasdale. Born in St. Louis on August 8, 1884, she won a Pulitzer Prize in 1918 for Love Songs, a poetry collection published in 1917.

"I went out on an April morning All alone for my heart was high, I was a child of the shining meadow, I was a sister of the sky."

-- Sara Teasdale

[leinamichelle]

"There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone."

-ST

[trixie-and-ames]

I shall gather myself into myself again, I shall take my scattered selves and make them one, Fusing them into a polished crystal ball Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun. –Sara Teasdale #sarateasdale #ilovepoetry #poems https://www.instagram.com/p/CZjb9CkLLqK/?utm_medium=tumblr

[trixie-and-ames]

The Crystal Gazer By Sara Teasdale I shall gather myself into myself again,    I shall take my scattered selves and make them one, Fusing them into a polished crystal ball    Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun. I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,    Watching the future come and the present go, And the little shifting pictures of people rushing    In restless self-importance to and fro. #sarateasdale #poetry #ilovepoetty https://www.instagram.com/p/CZWsgcxLjt1/?utm_medium=tumblr