A Forbidden Love?

Love Poem

And the great looks of love, long hidden,
Found at last in meeting eyes.

 

Imagine -enjoying a forbidden love–never acknowledged.
Until then. Finally.

Is it just me or do you also wonder if she actually had a long hidden love?
I write tormented poems of longing–

Will someone, someday, look back on my words and imagine they spoke of my own pain?
Would they assume I am living my words?
The irony is I am not in anguish. I’m happy. Completely happy.
Or so I think.
So I feel.

But perhaps there is something–
deep below the surface–
that causes me to remember longing and pain so clearly.
To want more.
To remember pleasures beyond words despite their inherent pain.
Any thoughts?

 

Taken from:

I Have Loved Hours At Sea
by Sara Teasdale, 1884-1933

I have loved hours at sea, gray cities,
The fragile secret of a flower,
Music, the making of a poem
That gave me heaven for an hour.

First stars above a snowy hill,
Voices of people kindly and wise,
And the great looks of love, long hidden,
Found at last in meeting eyes.

 

 

So I looked her up and she has an amazing story of lost love.
The man she loved didn’t marry her as he was a poet with no means to support her.
Instead, she married another poet. (A wealthy one!)
Later she divorced her husband and moved two blocks away from her first love,
who was now married with children.
He commits suicide and two years later she commits suicide.

Brokenhearted?
Hidden love?
Tormented by impossible love?

What do you think?

 

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