Sara Tresdale

[i-nevergiveup.livejournal.com]

The Broken Field- (Sara Tresdale)

My soul is a dark ploughed field
In the cold rain,
My sould is a broken field,
ploughed by pain,

Where grass and bending flowers,
were growing,
The field lies broken now,
For another sowing,

Great Sower when you tread,
My field again,
Scatter furrows there
With better grain.


Lines- (Sara Tresdale)

These are the ultimate highlands,
Like chord on chord of music,
Climbing to rest,
On the highest peak and the bluest,
Large on the luminous heaven,
Deep in the west,

Comments

[pachamama.livejournal.com]

these are by sara teasdale, not tresdale. can you please edit and correct the post? also, the last poem ends in a fullstop (period) not a comma.

[glass-doll.livejournal.com]

me love her long time :p