Sara Teasdales Toes

My toes are petals, pale and small, Whispering secrets to the night; They dance upon the marble floor, Tracing dreams in silver light. Each step I take, they softly press Against the earth, so cool and wide, They know the songs of summer’s end And winter’s kiss, where we would hide. They curl within the velvet sheets, A gentle prayer in twilight's keep, They know the hush of midnight winds, The tender touch of restful sleep. Oh, silent soldiers of my soul, You lead me where my heart would go.