Sara Teasdale

(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

Madeira From The Sea - Poem by Sara Teasdale

Out of the delicate dream of the distance an emerald emerges
Veiled in the violet folds of the air of the sea;
Softly the dream grows awakening -- shimmering white of a city,
Splashes of crimson, the gay bougainvillea, the palms.
High in the infinite blue of its heaven a quiet cloud lingers,
Lost and forgotten of winds that have fallen asleep,
Fallen asleep to the tune of a Portuguese song in a garden.


Comments about Madeira From The Sea by Sara Teasdale

  • Brian Jani (5/5/2014 5:54:00 AM)


    Super poem this (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: city, dream, song, heaven, lost, sea, wind



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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