Looky what I found. A looove poem. For class.
Come on, I don't just look up love poetry in my spare time.
The Look by Sara Teasdale
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.
This is the epitome of how I want to write. Showing instead of telling.
Kissing with the eyes. Pure brilliance. I want someone to kiss me with their eyes. ; ]
2 comments:
My husband is Colin!!
(A different Colin, of course).
(Because I'm pretty sure he's kissed me once or twice, maybe).
What a lovely poem.
This is presh.
And clever.
Also, Cora's comment: Mint.
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