THE April night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree;
Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
But not to me.
My peace is hidden in his breast
Where I shall never be,
Love comes to-night to all the rest,
But not to me.
Sara Teasdale
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(Arid means dry; without rain) ONCE more into my arid days like dew, Like wind from an oasis, or the sound Of cold sweet water bubbling unde...
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"I hate the way you talk to me And the way you cut your hair I hate the way you drive my car I hate it when you stare I hate your bi... -
You are the secret my heart holds silently, quietly, gleefully. When life erupts around me or tu...
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