1918 Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale

Kiss

I hoped that he would love me,

And he has kissed my mouth,

But I am like a stricken bird

That cannot reach the south.

For though I know he loves me,

To-night my heart is sad;

His kiss was not so wonderful

As all the dreams I had.

Commentary- Simple rhyming, subject matter, words and images. A few poems in this book get darker and more serious, but the above gives you a sense of most of it.

I’m sure she was great for her time. Makes you appreciate what a force TS Eliot must have been.

My opinion: 4/10