After love
There is no magic any more,
We meet as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
Nor I for you.
You were the wind and I the sea --
There is no splendor any more,
I have grown listless as the pool
Beside the shore.
But though the pool is safe from storm
And from the tide has found surcease,
It grows more bitter than the sea,
For all its peace.
>>> Sara Teasdale.
_____________________________________
YOU ARE READING
Кαℓσρѕια ✓
Random|| • Highest Rank #10 in Random #12 in poetry • || ( Noun : The delusion of things being more beautiful than they are. ) This book is a collection of my favorite quotes, poems & Excerpts. If you love to read you shou...
