In honour of National Poetry Month, I’m going to post two poems by one of my favourite poets of long ago, SARA TEASDALE
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.
There in the windy flood of morning
Longing lifted its weight from me,
Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering,
Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.
This next one is from her “Vignettes Overseas”
The moon grows out of the hills
a yellow flower;
the lake is a dreamy bride
who waits her hour.
Beauty has filled my heart,
it can hold no more;
it is full, as the lake is full,
from shore to shore.
STRESA appeared in The Collected Works of Sara Teasdale, first published in 1907.
For rosy apples, juicy plums,
and yellow pears so sweet,
for hips and haws on bush and hedge,
and flowers at our feet;
for ears of corn all ripe and dry,
and coloured leaves on trees,
we thank You, Heavenly Father God
for such good gifts as these.
— Author unknown to me
This week I’m going to be bringing posts over from my other blogs that are shut down now. This verse was posted on Swallow in the Wind in the fall of 2012.
by Canadian poet Archibald Lampman
To the distance! Ah, the distance!
Blue and broad and dim!
Peace is not in burgh or meadow,
But beyond the rim.
Aye, beyond it, far beyond it;
Follow still my soul,
Till this earth is lost in heaven,
And thou feel’st the whole.
In honor of the US National Literacy Awareness Month I’ll publish
this verse from one of America’s best-loved poets.
THE APPLE TREE
by Edgar Guest
When an apple tree is ready for the world to come and eat,
there isn’t any structure in the land that’s got it beat.
There’s nothing man has builded with the beauty or the charm
that can touch the simple grandeur of the monarch of the farm.
There’s never any picture from a human being’s brush
that has ever caught the redness of a single apple’s blush.
When an apple tree’s in blossom it is glorious to see,
but that’s just a hint, at springtime, of the better things to be;
that is just a fairy promise from the Great Magician’s wand
of the wonders and the splendors that are waiting just beyond
the distant edge of summer; just a forecast of the treat
when the apple tree is ready for the world to come and eat.
Architects of splendid vision long have labored on the earth
and have raised their dreams in marble and we’ve marveled at their worth;
long the spires of costly churches have looked upward at the sky;
rich in promise and in beauty, they have cheered the passer-by.
But I’m sure there’s nothing finer for the eye of man to meet
than an apple tree that’s ready for the world to come and eat.
There’s the promise of the apples, red and gleaming in the sun,
like the medals worn by mortals as rewards for labors done,
and the big arms stretched wide open with a welcome warm and true
in a way that sets you thinking it’s intended just for you.
There is nothing with a beauty so entrancing, so complete,
as an apple tree that’s ready for the world to come and eat.
From the book A Heap O’ Livin’
© 1916 by the Reilly & Britton Company