The Look
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Strephon’s kiss was lost in jest,
Robin’s lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin’s eyes
Haunts me night and day.
***
Hello Friends,
Yesterday’s poem-a-day is “The Look” by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933).
Some Teasdale trivia tidbits: Her middle name was “Trevor.” She hung with the Harriet Monroe crowd (whose sizable fortune makes Poetry magazine the most financially well-off poetry organization in the U.S. to this day).
Teasdale is also among the (many) suicide sisters of our poetic heritage; for some interesting reading on the connection between mental illness, suicidality, and artistic genius, I highly recommend Kay Redfield Jamison’s Touched with Fire.
April is National Poetry Month, and I am celebrating by emailing out my own eclectic selection of one poem per day for the duration of the month. You can always learn more about National Poetry Month or sign up for a more official-like poem-a-day list at www.poets.org, the website of the Academy of American Poets.
Enjoy.
Ellen
P.S. You will have to wait til later today for today’s poem. I apologize for falling a bit behind.
“The Look” by Sara Teasdale was featured again for Poem-a-Day April 27, 2011.