Long Teasdale Poems

My depression is deep and dark and many mile's wide,
As the oceans I've swam, where other's have simply just died.
A little about the mental health professional people I've met
And yes I still see,

No one will...

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“I shall die not knowing the thing I longed to know.” - from I KNOW THE STARS, Sara Teasdale

I have a thin volume of poetry I got when young.
Its title is “Those Who Love.” The...

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UPROOTED


“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.”--------------------Rumi
listen not to the vagrant zephyr
seeking only sustenance of its kind
idol thinkers lolling in innocence
swayed by every whispering sigh
unaware – that secrets lie.

“We put the urn aboard...

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My first sight of him was on a March day
in a restaurant where I was dining.
Oh lovely chance when his sweet eyes met mine.
Like two lovely jewels, they were shining.

The look that he gave me...

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(A Cento Poem) Title from Emily Dickinson

When swords were bright and steeds were prancing          	 Miniver Cheevy
and the fire-wood glowed knife-edge     ...

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When I was young, a book was given me:
a small book with the title "Those Who Love."
Its female author I knew nothing of -
This dreamer poetess wrote beautifully.

Gentle, practical and solitary,
Sara was in love with...

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Wipe that silly grin from your face, boy
I am a woman, but certainly not a wimp
Watch me roll with the punches, tough guy
It'll take more than your words my style to crimp


   ...

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"No one worth possessing can be quite possessed. That includes one's self." - Sara Teasdale

I don't belong to me (it’s true), you don't belong to you.
Can't be denied, a simple truth, but one embraced by...

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Here’s a story of a nation called Freedonia
It has a neighboring country known as Sylvania
Freedonia’s richest woman is Mrs. Teasdale.
The country is bankrupt, and without her help will fail.
New government has been in place, but...

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They sang to stars, to flowers pale with dew,
To hearts that bled beneath the waning moon;
Yet every song they wove from sorrow grew,
Each note a dirge, each rhyme a fading tune.

The world too heavy, pressing...

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Too Soon

Do very youthful men and women fret
About the ill success of dreams they’ve dreamt?
They barely have begun to even whet
Their lust for life! I think they are exempt 
a mere while yet from lessons...

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That’s What Family Is For
(in the style of Sara Teasdale)

The sky bends low with longing sighs,
Clouds like weary hands unfold,
The rivers wind, with secrets told,
To the sea that cradles broken ties.

Beneath the foam, beneath the...

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The night swallowed her, quiet as the sea,
Where the waves carried whispers, heavy and deep—
Sara, a ripple lost in the currents of time,
A flicker gone dark beneath the moon's hollow eye.

Oceans curled their backs to...

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Sarah Teasdale, a poet of grace,
Her words like whispers filled the space.
Born in the year of eighteen eighty-four,
Her life's tale, forever to explore.

A tender soul with a heart that bled,
In verse, her emotions were widely...

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“Though I know he loves me, tonight my heart is sad; his kiss was not so wonderful as all the dreams I had.” - Sara Teasdale


You see it in romantic movies, and
when you are young,...

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When will there come soft rain, serene and slow,
To kiss the silent earth and make it bloom?
The skies have whispered tales of falling snow,
But rain will banish all the heart’s deep gloom.

The trees stand still,...

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Purple in the sky, the night is clear,
The quiet waves sigh softly in my ear,
A tender hymn of love the ocean weaves,
As twilight gently falls on whispering leaves.

The sea reflects the sky's amethyst hue,
Each wave...

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She is Well Versed, Abundant and Blessed
by Sara Teasdale

She speaks in tones the stars would keep,
Soft syllables of hidden seas,
Her laughter wakes the buds from sleep,
And scatters warmth through autumn trees.

The world is richer for...

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Not A Word
                               homage to...

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Your world is too small for me to live in,
The stars are cramped in your narrow sky,
You hem the moon with shadows so thin,
And still expect not even me to sigh.

Your oceans are pools that...

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Grace is the glitter of the morning dew,
A silent dance of sunlight through the trees,
The tender touch of petals kissed by blue,
A song that rides upon the softest breeze.

It is the gentleness of falling leaves,
A...

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The night pressed in with a velvet hand,
I was so tired, you’d understand.
All day the world had sung its song,
But not for me—I did not belong.

The streets were lit, the windows warm,
Yet none could shield...

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Why should I care about rain and or snow,
About your green leaves that were silver and gold.
Or on a bush on that hill that will never be seen!
Or all of the trees that you climbed...

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The roses wilt in heavy sun,
Their petals frail and worn,
Beneath the sky where shadows run,
And leaves are gently torn.

The laughter of the golden days
Fades softly with the light,
As twilight’s silver fingers raise
The veil of coming...

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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...

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