Vintage verse – A Winter Blue Jay by Sara Teasdale

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A Winter Blue Jay

Crisply the bright snow whispered,
Crunching beneath our feet;
Behind us as we walked along the parkway,
Our shadows danced,
Fantastic shapes in vivid blue.
Across the lake the skaters
Flew to and fro,
With sharp turns weaving
A frail invisible net.
In ecstasy the earth
Drank the silver sunlight;
In ecstasy the skaters
Drank the wine of speed;
In ecstasy we laughed
Drinking the wine of love.
Had not the music of our joy
Sounded its highest note?
But no,
For suddenly, with lifted eyes you said,
“Oh look!”
There, on the black bough of a snow flecked maple,
Fearless and gay as our love,
A bluejay cocked his crest!
Oh who can tell the range of joy
Or set the bounds of beauty?

by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim

Vintage verse – Summer Night, Riverside by Sara Teasdale

Summer Night, Riverside

In the wild soft summer darkness
How many and many a night we two together
Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
Wearing her lights like golden spangles
Glinting on black satin.
The rail along the curving pathway
Was low in a happy place to let us cross,
And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom
Sheltered us,
While your kisses and the flowers,
Falling, falling,
Tangled in my hair….

The frail white stars moved slowly over the sky.

And now, far off
In the fragrant darkness
The tree is tremulous again with bloom
For June comes back.

To-night what girl
Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair
This year’s blossoms, clinging to its coils?

by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim.

Vintage verse – Places [III. Winter Sun] by Sara Teasdale

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Places [III. Winter Sun]

. . . . . . . .(Lenox)

There was a bush with scarlet berries,
. . . .And there were hemlocks heaped with snow,
With a sound like surf on long sea-beaches
. . . .They took the wind and let it go.

The hills were shining in their samite,
. . . .Fold after fold they flowed away;
“Let come what may,” your eyes were saying,
. . . .“At least we two have had to-day.”

by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim