OK, tmf, I understand.....still, allow me:
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861):
My Kate
She was not as pretty as women I know,
And yet all your best made of sunshine and snow
Drop to shade, melt to nought in the long-trodden ways,
While she's still remembered on warm and cold days--
My Kate.
Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace;
You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face;
And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth,
You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth--
My Kate.
Such a blue inner light from her eyelids outbroke,
You looked at her silence and fancied she spoke;
When she did, so peculiar yet soft was the tone,
Though the loudest spoke also, you heard her alone--
My Kate.
I doubt if she said to you much that could act
As a thought or suggestion; she did not attract
In the sense of the brilliant or wise; I infer
'Twas her thinking of others made you think of her--
My Kate.
She never found fault with you, never implied
Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side
Grew nobler, girls purer, as through the whole town
The children were gladder that pulled at her gown--
My Kate
None knelt at her feet confessed lovers in thrall;
They knelt more to God than they used--that was all;
If you praised her as charming, some asked what you meant,
But the charm of her presence was felt when she went--
My Kate.
The weak and the gentle, the ribald and rude,
She took as she found them, and did them all good;
It always was so with her--see what you have!
She has made the grass greener even here with her grave--
My Kate.
My dear one! -- when thou wast alive with the rest,
I held thee the sweetest and loved thee the best:
And now thou art dead, shall I not take thy part
As thy smiles used to do for thyself, my sweet Heart --
My Kate.
yes, there's so much loveliness in Wimbledon, It's a very special, magical place.
I wish I could have a tiny hut there to live in during the two weeks, I could write a book of wonderful poems
Points tracker - Wimbledon
Page 5 of 5
posted on 10/7/12
OK, tmf, I understand.....still, allow me:
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861):
My Kate
She was not as pretty as women I know,
And yet all your best made of sunshine and snow
Drop to shade, melt to nought in the long-trodden ways,
While she's still remembered on warm and cold days--
My Kate.
Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace;
You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face;
And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth,
You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth--
My Kate.
Such a blue inner light from her eyelids outbroke,
You looked at her silence and fancied she spoke;
When she did, so peculiar yet soft was the tone,
Though the loudest spoke also, you heard her alone--
My Kate.
I doubt if she said to you much that could act
As a thought or suggestion; she did not attract
In the sense of the brilliant or wise; I infer
'Twas her thinking of others made you think of her--
My Kate.
She never found fault with you, never implied
Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side
Grew nobler, girls purer, as through the whole town
The children were gladder that pulled at her gown--
My Kate
None knelt at her feet confessed lovers in thrall;
They knelt more to God than they used--that was all;
If you praised her as charming, some asked what you meant,
But the charm of her presence was felt when she went--
My Kate.
The weak and the gentle, the ribald and rude,
She took as she found them, and did them all good;
It always was so with her--see what you have!
She has made the grass greener even here with her grave--
My Kate.
My dear one! -- when thou wast alive with the rest,
I held thee the sweetest and loved thee the best:
And now thou art dead, shall I not take thy part
As thy smiles used to do for thyself, my sweet Heart --
My Kate.
posted on 10/7/12
Elizabeth Barrett
This one deserves poetry too
http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/tennis/18636437
posted on 10/7/12
You did not like my poetry
posted on 10/7/12
yes, there's so much loveliness in Wimbledon, It's a very special, magical place.
I wish I could have a tiny hut there to live in during the two weeks, I could write a book of wonderful poems
posted on 10/7/12
The links?
I did. Esp the second one....One of these days I may find time to put some of those pictures into words
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