I love poetry. I love Fridays. So it's no surprise that I love poetry Fridays (Check out Chicken Spaghetti's roundup of all of today's poems.) I tucked today's offering in the draft of the second book in my series for Dutton (tentatively titled First Daughter: White House Rules.) Not sure that Ms. Teasdale's poem will stay, but since Sparrow feels a bit of desolation in one part of the book, I wanted to offer the kind of consolation that only a poem can provide.
Barley Bending
by Sara Teasdale
Like barley bending
In low fields by the sea,
Singing in hard wind
Ceaselessly;
Like barley bending
And rising again,
So would I, unbroken,
Rise from pain;
So would I softly,
Day long, night long,
Change my sorrow
Into song.
Barley Bending
by Sara Teasdale
Like barley bending
In low fields by the sea,
Singing in hard wind
Ceaselessly;
Like barley bending
And rising again,
So would I, unbroken,
Rise from pain;
So would I softly,
Day long, night long,
Change my sorrow
Into song.