Amy Lowell: The Broken Fountain
All day I have watched the purple vine leaves
Fall into the water.
And now in the moonlight they still fall,
But each leaf is fringed with silver.
Sappho: Fragments, on Love and Desire
Like the sweet-apple reddening high on the branch,
High on the highest, the apple-pickers forgot,
Or not forgotten, but one they couldn’t reach…
Elsa Gidlow: Chance
Strange that a single white iris
Given carelessly one slumbering spring midnight
Should be the first of love,
Yet life is written so.
Amy Lowell: A Decade
When you came, you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Elsa Gidlow: Constancy
My sister, I keep faith with love, not lovers.
Elsa Gidlow: A Happy Song
Heaped sweets and a treasure
For a new sin to play with,
To pass a night and day with––
Heaped sweets for a pleasure.
Charlotte Mew: A Quoi Bon Dire
Seventeen years ago you said
Something that sounded like Good-bye;
And everybody thinks that you are dead,
But I.
Amy Lowell: The Blue Scarf
Pale, with the blue of high zeniths, shimmered over with silver, brocaded
In smooth, running patterns, a soft stuff, with dark knotted fringes, it lies there,
Warm from a woman’s soft shoulders…
Video: Helen Fisher “The Brain in Love”
. Why do we crave love so much, even to the point that we would die for it? To learn more about our very real, very physical need for romantic … Continue reading
Elsa Gidlow: I Come With My Songs
An excerpt from Elsa Gidlow’s autobiography: . . . that house on Redwood Road in Fairfax, Marin County, became mine by the Winter Solstice of 1940. I called it “Madrona”. … Continue reading
