The Look
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.
--Sara Teasdale
This poem of hers touched me real deep...it reminds me of verses from John Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn" : Heard melodies are sweet, those unheard are sweeter still.
How often we find ourselves caught in moments where the unpoken and unheard feelings wreak more havoc than the one said aloud.
posted by Kumari @ 5:40 PM
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