Everything sublime is as difficult as it is rare. Baruch Spinoza

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Sara Teasdale, Neurotic & Analogous





















THE LONG HILL

I must have passed the crest a while ago
   And now am going down -
Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know,
   But the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown.

All the morning I thought how proud I should be
    To stand there straight as a queen,
Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world under me -
    But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.

It was nearly level along the beaten track
    And the brambles caught my gown -
But it's no use to think of going back.
   The rest of the way will be only going down.

8 comments:

Deb said...

I never know what I'll find when I visit you! I like surprises!

Alicia @ boylerpf said...

Ah...the expectations of finding something and the outcome are always two different things. Sometimes it is hard to keep our eye on the road just as Teasdale did with the crest of the hill. I guess we should open our eyes to the bigger picture and not get caught up in the little things...like the brambles.
Lovely poem!!

Cyndi and Stumpy said...

I don't think I have read any of Sara Teasdale's work before. I like it...going to read more.... Thanks!

Ganeida said...

Another goodie. Lovely picture with words. ☺ I'm glad you're back posting poetry.

Sandra said...

Debra, I know what you mean; sometime boring, sometimes not! The story of my life.

Alicia & gsc: Yes, I agree. I think it is a nice poem, and is analogous to my current frame of mind.

Ganeida, everything went off kilter for me this past several months. I'm attempting to regain my bearings. I'm glad you appreciate my poetry inclinations, as it was you who inspired me to try.

Sandra said...

I should say, to try to read more poetry, not write it. I don't wrote poetry. : )

Sandra said...

Obviously I don't wrote it, but I don't write it either!

Ganeida said...

I do ~ write poetry that is. Not good poetry but I enjoy fiddling.