Thursday, January 1, 2015

appraisal

never think she loves him wholly - never believe her love is blind
all his faults are locked securely in a closet of her mind;
all his indecisions folded like old flags that time has faded, limp and streaked with rain, 
and his cautiousness like garments frayed and thin, with many a stain
let them be, oh let them be, there is treasure to outweigh them, 
his proud will that sharply stirred, climbs as surely as the tide.
senses strained too taut to sleep, gentleness to beast and bird,
humor flickering hushed and wide, as the moon on moving water,
and a tenderness too deep to be gathered in a word.
- sara teasdale

one has been given to have known the treasure.

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