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(15 November 1869 – 24 March 1928 / London)

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My Heart is Lame

My heart is lame with running after yours so fast
Such a long way,
Shall we walk slowly home, looking at all the things we passed
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Comments about this poem (Moorland Night by Charlotte Mary Mew )

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  • Savita Tyagi (3/18/2014 2:52:00 PM)

    Fantastic poem. So many emotions expressed so well. Loved it.

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  • Karen Sinclair (3/18/2014 2:52:00 AM)

    This had me in tears.... How beautiful a description of the sheer exhaustion of loving one who does not return the emotion. The first stanza I believe expresses the need to just slow down and wishing she could lead her lover through all the memories she holds so dear.
    The second I think is my favourite, where one glances and all is lost. The unable to touch. Oh the tears. I wish they would go away.
    Something lovelier in loves face death (I swoon at the poignance here) she wonders I think if her lover may beguin to regret Although Charlotte believes this may happen I think she knows she is nohw internally dead. I must save this. Ps this is just my interpretation.

    Love her photo. So charismatic.

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