My whole life through,
Things to go unforgotten till I am dead;
But the hundredfold, adorable ways of you,
The tilt of your chin for laughter, the turn of your head
That I loved, that I knew -
Oh! While I fed on the dreams of them, these have fled!
Words which no time can touch are my life's refrain,
But each picture flies.
All that was left to hold till I met you again,
Your mouth's deep curve, your brow where the shadow lies,
These are the things I strive to capture in vain,
And I have forgotten your eyes;
And the way that your hair spun curls in the beating of rain!
Kathleen Coates was a Cambridge student around 1910-13; I'm working on a small collection of her poems at the moment and decided to post this, my favourite. The picture is of Trinity Street, a scene hardly changed from when she'd have wandered down it, giddy with love and hope, hand in hand with her husband-to-be. Of course, if he was anything like me, he'd have whipped his hand away and told her not to be so soppy... ;p
Kathleen M. Coates, 1914.
Kathleen Coates was a Cambridge student around 1910-13; I'm working on a small collection of her poems at the moment and decided to post this, my favourite. The picture is of Trinity Street, a scene hardly changed from when she'd have wandered down it, giddy with love and hope, hand in hand with her husband-to-be. Of course, if he was anything like me, he'd have whipped his hand away and told her not to be so soppy... ;p