Sunday WW1 Remembered...

There are signs everywhere that spring is on its way, a sharpening of the light, a promise of blossom and the sweet,soft chorus of birdsong.

With that in mind I was drawn to this reflective poem by one of my favourite female poets.

Spring in War Time

by

Sara Teasdale

I feel the spring far off, far off,

The faint, far scent of bud and leaf—

Oh, how can spring take heart to come

To a world in grief,

Deep grief?

The sun turns north, the days grow long,

Later the evening star grows bright—

How can the daylight linger on

For men to fight,

Still fight?

The grass is waking in the ground,

Soon it will rise and blow in waves—

How can it have the heart to sway

Over the graves,

New graves?

Under the boughs where lovers walked

The apple-blooms will shed their breath—

But what of all the lovers now

Parted by Death,

Grey Death?

Sara Teasdale 1884 - 1933

Sara Teasdale was born in St. Louis Missouri in 1884 and had her first set of poetry published in 1907. 

In 1918, she won a Pulitzer prize for her 1917 poetry collection, Love Songs. 

She went on to publish three more poetry collections - Flame and Shadow (1920), Dark of the Moon (1926), and Stars Tonight (1930).

Following a bout of illness, Sara Teasdale committed suicide in 1933. She is buried in Bellefontaine Cemetery in St. Louis.

~***~