Friday, September 4, 2009

Only in Sleep

Yesterday I got this poem from and found it simply beautiful. The unforgettable memories of a childhood. So here it is.
I have left the original formatting in place. It looks rather eye catching.
Well, at least, so I think.

"Only in Sleep"

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Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild.

Only in sleep Time is forgotten --
What may have come to them, who can know?
Yet we played last night as long ago,
And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair.

The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,
I met their eyes and found them mild --
Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,
And for them am I too a child?

Sarah Teasdale