The Sunday Posts 2013/The Kiss

I hoped that he would love me,
And he has kissed my mouth,
But I am like a stricken bird
That cannot reach the south.

For though I know he loves me,
To-night my heart is sad;
His kiss was not so wonderful
As all the dreams I had.

Sara Teasdale
Photo by Alistair.


Comments

Bovey Belle said…
An unusual poem - it has a jaunty rhythm but sad words . . .
Yamini MacLean said…
Hari om
and jings@! indeed - not sure about that poem. The girl needs to stop dreaming methinks! Seriously though, it demonstrates clearly how we can lose ourselves in idealism.

In nature's wonder however, there is nothing but the ideal. Lovely photo again Alistair. I do hope you are having a good weekend. Blessings, YAM
Hullo BB,

It was the end that was the kicker for me. Left me wondering if more than a few I've kissed might have felt the same!

Hullo Yamini,

Thank you. Glad you liked the photo. I seem to take a lot of flowers. Never would have thought that before taking up a camera. Unfortunately, even though it's Easter, I've been working all weekend and it'll be next Sunday before I get a day off.

Hope you and yours are well.

Cheers.

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