CPC PICK-APART POETRY CELEBRATES THE ARRIVAL OF SUMMER
Pick-Apart Poetry Celebrates
the Arrival of Summer
with Sara Teasdale
Welcome to the June 2012 edition of Pick-Apart Poetry
as we celebrate the arrival of Summer.
This month we feature Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933), an American lyrical poet
whose poetry touches our hearts in so many ways.
We bring you two of her pieces which
feature Summer and the Seasons.
PLACES
Places I love come back to me like music,
Hush me and heal me when I am very tired;
I see the oak woods at Saxton’s flaming
In a flare of crimson by the frost newly fired;
And I am thirsty for the spring in the valley
As for a kiss ungiven and long desired.
I know a bright world of snowy hills at Boonton,
A blue and white dazzling light on everything one sees,
The ice-covered branches of the hemlocks sparkle
Bending low and tinkling in the sharp thin breeze,
And iridescent crystals fall and crackle on the snow-crust
With the winter sun drawing cold blue shadows from the trees.
Violet now, in veil on veil of evening
The hills across from Cromwell grow dreamy and far;
A wood-thrush is singing soft as a viol
In the heart of the hollow where the dark pools are;
The primrose has opened her pale yellow flowers
And heaven is lighting star after star.
Places I love come back to me like music —
Mid-ocean, midnight, the waves buzz drowsily;
In the ship’s deep churning the eerie phosphorescence
Is like the souls of people who were drowned at sea,
And I can hear a man’s voice, speaking, hushed, insistent,
At midnight, in mid-ocean, hour on hour to me.
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 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.
Tonight what girl
Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair
This year’s blossoms, clinging in its coils?
Sara Teasdale
Please select your 25 words from these two poems
and create a new piece (or pieces)
of your own using only those 25 words.
Remember though that the words
may be repeated and the tenses changed
so that your piece may be well over 25 total words.
You’re most definitely not limited to a 25-word piece.
And who’s really counting anyway?
The object is to have fun with this
and to share with one another.
and such fun we have sharing poetry and creating
with the 25 words selected from the posted pieces.
We look forward to what you bring to share with us tonight and throughout tomorrow as Pick-Apart Poetry celebrates the arrival of Summer with Sara Teasdale.
~Barb K and Cherie~
Welcome to Pick-Apart Poetry, June 2012 Edition as we welcome Summer with the poetry of Sara Teasdale and our own poetry. We so very much enjoy this time spent together each month and look forward to what we all bring to share with one another. Please do spread the word that we’re open and come back and share a piece or two or three with the 25 words that you select. Your poetry can reflect any theme that you choose. Looking forward to them.
I Love
come back
Like me
I am
Thristy for
her Love
like music
buzzing waves
slowly curving
over the stars
dreaming of
her kiss
JT 612
Good Evening Barb….and hello Diane…..
Ms. Teasdale weaves a wealth of words within her beautiful language. Look forward to the awesome writing shared here tonight on the CPC Pic Apart!!!!!
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Tonight stars move
Midnight two together open heart singing
Golden blossoms bloom with us again
Falling slowly its deep
Everything dazzling
Soft kisses in love
beautiful pictures
falling sky
darkness bloom
wild fire
hemlocks crackle
falling trees
crimson breeze
how many ???
crossing hills
and valleys
the place
I love
hollow now
HUSH!
JT 612
~
In a flare of crimson
And I am thirsty
I know a bright world
With the winter sun
A wood thrush
Cromwell grow dreamy and far
And heaven is lighting
Written By: Bettie Davis ——————- © June 26 , 2012
~
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Nite all……see you tomorrow!!!!! :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love:
I THIRST
Dreamily before
This years blossoms
The tree is tremulous again
In the fragrant darkness
While your kisses
Hush me and heal me
And I am thirsty
Bending low and tinkling
And I can hear a mans voice
At midnight
In the ships deep churning
Violet now in veil
With the winter sun drawing cold blue shadows
In the heart of the hollow
I know a bright world
And heaven is lighting
Places I love
I see the oak woods
In a flare of crimson frost
And I am thirsty for the spring in the valley
As for a kiss ungiven and long desired
Written By: Bettie Davis —————— © June 26 , 2o12
Archived image unavailable
GOLDEN
Waves of golden blossoms
cling to the hills and valleys,
their hushed fragrance
across the evening breezes,
healing my soul as they sing
to the music of the stars.
(c) barbara kausteklis 6-26-12
Well, it’s getting late even here in Southern California. Tonight has been such a lot of fun and I look forward to spending tomorrow with you as well. I look forward to reading the pieces you share over coffee in the morning. Good night and rest well. Big Hugs. :love: :love: :love:
Greetings and Good Morning and Happy Wednesday. All such beautiful pieces posted so far. I look forward to what you bring back to share with us today. Always such a treat.
LONGING
I can hear the soul’s voice:
love come back to me!
I am thirsty for a kiss long desired,
singing soft In the heart I love.
Come back to me like music!
Copyright June 27th 2012 RGD
I’ll be back in a bit — Hubby has a medical appointment that I must attend. Looking forward to what you share.
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I can hear A man’s voice speaking I’am thirsty for a kiss ungiven and long desired,blossom fragrant,love In the soul is like music.
(C)Flossie Fryer June 25Th,2012
Archived image unavailable
FROM THE DARKNESS
Evening’s veil,
hushed and soft
across the valley
of my soul,
heals my heart,
drawing me
from the shadows
of snow-crusted winter
toward the dazzling light
of a new summer sun.
(c) barbara kausteklis 6-27-12