Wednesday, July 15, 2009

chebeague



Exiled (in part) by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Searching my heart for its true sorrow,
This is the thing I find to be:
That I am weary of words and people,
Sick of the city, wanting the sea;

Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness
Of the strong wind and shattered spray;
Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound
Of the big surf that breaks all day.

Always before about my dooryard,
Marking the reach of the winter sea,
Rooted in sand and dragging drift-wood,
Straggled the purple wild sweet-pea;


Kindest thanks, Chebeague Orchard Inn for a magical escape.

5 comments:

oldyarns said...

Ooh, I recognise that longing.

comfies said...

tyler the poem is so beautiful. and my mother LOVES edna st. vincent millay. i will have to forward this to her....thank you for sharing.

Julia said...

What a beautiful poem. Especially mixed with these heart-warming images!

Secret Leaves said...

Beautiful photos, Tyler.

-S

n a t s u m i said...

These are beautiful photos!! I would love to go to see the ocean! Blue sky and clear water... Love the smell of the ocean too!