Quoted:
.....The Flight by Sara Teasdale
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if i have made, my lady, intricate
imperfect various things chiefly which wrong
your eyes (frailer than most deep dreams are frail)
songs less firm than your body's whitest song upon my mind - if i have failed to snare
the glance too shy - if through my singing slips
the very skillful strangeness of your smile
the keen primeval silence of your hair
-let the world say "his most wise music stole
nothing from death" -
you only will create
(who are so perfectly alive)my shame:
lady through whose profound and fragile lips
the sweet small clumsy feet of April came
into the ragged meadow of my soul...
e.e. cummings
my apologies to ee for using his words without attribution, and if the visual presentation of his words are imperfect, knowing he was a painter and a poet...