Sara Teasdale

In this post at least, I may actually do something similar to what I said in the introduction. I've read some of the poetry of Sara Teasdale, an American poet who lived from 1884-1933. Although not exactly recent, her poems haven't lost anything in time, and they have the added bonus of being in a language that is easy to comprehend. Here I will post a few of her poems that I like and perhaps why I like them, and maybe a bit of other stuff along with that.

April
The roofs are shining from the rain, The sparrows twitter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by. Yet the back-yards are bare and brown With only one unchanging tree -- I could not be so sure of spring Save that it sings in me.

I like this poem for several reasons. The first is that it fits very well with the season right now. That, in my opinion, is one of the benefits of poetry about nature. All these years later, you can look outside and see the things described in a poem. Secondly, the feel of this poem is nice. Particularly, something about the last line brings the poem to a close perfectly, and gives a pleasant feeling. All in all, a quiet but happy poem.

I Shall Not Care

When I am dead and over me bright April Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, Though you shall lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care. I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough; And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now. What I like about this poem is a little harder to pin down. I stands in contrast to the last poem, and maybe it's the contrast I like, but the feel of this poem is quite different. The imagery in the first two lines of the last half has a particular impact, and I suppose that that, along with the general feel of the poem, is why I like it.