Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Tulips

The tulips make me want to paint,
Something about the way they drop
Their petals on the tabletop
And do not wilt so much as faint,

Something about their burnt-out hearts,
Something about their pallid stems
Wearing decay like diadems,
Parading finishes like starts,

Something about the way they twist
As if to catch the last applause,
And drink the moment through long straws,
And how, tomorrow, they’ll be missed.

The way they’re somehow getting clearer,
The tulips make me want to see—
The tulips make the other me
(The backwards one who’s in the mirror,

The one who can’t tell left from right),
Glance now over the wrong shoulder
To watch them get a little older
And give themselves up to the light.

A.E. Stallings

Cassandra's Front Door

5 comments:

  1. i like the hand painted wreath and the tulips on yourv front door.(My son is studying law and will do some research at Washington University this summer.i 'm sure he will have a nice time, i went to Washington and i liked it very much) Catherine

    ReplyDelete
  2. I stopped by earlier Cassandra and saw your wonderful post on Krakow but not having the time to properly read and digest it, or to leave a comment, I thought I would come back this evening - and - here is another wonderful post!

    The poem in praise of tulips is lovely ... 'and do not wilt so much as faint' ... so true!

    Oh my goodness your front door is a vision of gorgeousness!

    Now I'm off to look at Krakow:-)

    Jeanne
    x

    ReplyDelete
  3. Such a happy Springtime flower, don't you think?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Dear Cassandra

    Thanks for visiting my blog! I love your blog and especially the picture of your front door...it is beautiful! We have something in common... Cotswold! I love it! Have a blessed day!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Gasp! What a pretty front door! What a great poem, also! I just came by to catch up on the news and to say thank you for your comments on my blog!

    Love, Katy Noelle

    ReplyDelete


Beatrix & Friends...

Frolicking Lambs

Cassandra Follows...