My photo
~ by Sara Teasdale ~
A delicate fabric of bird song
Floats in the air,
The smell of wet wild earth
Is everywhere.
Oh I must pass nothing by
Without loving it much,
The raindrop try with my lips,
The grass with my touch;
For how can I be sure
I shall see again
The world on the first of May
Shining after the rain?
..the delicate fabric of bird song.... what a fabulous line Jeanne. This is a new poet to me. Another one to search out and find more from. Thank you! Lesley x
ReplyDelete"The smell of wet, wild earth..." Do you know (you must know) Elizabeth Goudge? She wrote that lovely novel, "The Scent of Water". I love that phrase (which is from Ecclesiastes, originally, I think.) I love the scent of water. Out of my kitchen window, there is a bank (that will someday be a garden, I hope) that is very moist. There's a willow tree planted there, we think, in the hopes of stemming the tide of water that trickles in that end of the basement and though a channel and out a drain at the other end. The thing is, when I do the dishes, I still enjoy "the scent of water" from it. A little bit of bliss.
ReplyDeleteKaty: Thank you so much for reminding me of 'The Scent of Water'. I must read it again.
ReplyDeleteI love the description of the promising bank outside your window!
Lesley: I did a post on Sara Teasdale and her poetry earlier in the year that you may want to re-visit. Its on my Cottage Garden blog ... January I think.
ReplyDeleteI have only recently discovered her too.