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JASMINE THERESE
"I only love simplicity. I have a horror of pretence."
- Saint Thérèse of Lisieux |
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EthelMark Michelle Ting Inspiration
LushleeOh Joy! GLOS |
Saturday, January 12, 2008 Elegy for Jane (My student, thrown by a horse) By Theodore Roethke I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils, And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile; And how, once startled into talk, the light syllables leaped for her. And she balanced in the delight of her thought, A wren, happy, tail into the wind, Her song trembling the twigs and small branches. The shade sang with her; The leaves, their whispers turning to kissing; And the mold sang in the bleached valleys under the rose. Oh, when she was sad, she cast herself down into such a pure depth, Even a father could not find her; Scraping her cheek against straw; Stirring the clearest water. My sparrow, you are not here, Waiting like a fern, making a spiny shadow. The sides of wet stones cannot console me, Nor the moss, wound with the last light. If only I could nudge you from this sleep, My maimed darling, my skittery pigeon . Over this damp grave I speak the words of my love: I, with no rights in this matter, Neither father nor lover. what a beautiful poem..
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