Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933), was an American lyrical poet.
I Am Not Yours
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.
(grins)..night lovey..it's late here...nice 'forumming' with you lol
I think he was trying to be smart or ironic or hip or something even more lame...You can't direct a horse with the title 'a horse with no name'..it will buck you and stuff...It's just not done. I suspect drugs were involved.
ermm the selections are limitless...what are you in the mood for? and what don't you have? so you give me a clue
hijacking this thread but they should invent deoderant that smells like freshly baked muffins....