Treasure Island

Sara Teasdale

(8 August 1884 – 29 January 1933 / Missouri)

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I Thought of You


I thought of you and how you love this beauty,
And walking up the long beach all alone
I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder
As you and I once heard their monotone.

Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me
The cold and sparkling silver of the sea --
We two will pass through death and ages lengthen
Before you hear that sound again with me.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002
Edited: Thursday, August 04, 2011

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Read poems about / on: beach, silver, beauty, sea, alone, death, love

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  • Stephen W (8/2/2014 5:04:00 PM)

    This poem might be less mysterious if you read the biographical material on its author provided on this site. Like many of her poems, it deals with lost love, because she did, indeed, suffer from this herself. (Report) Reply

  • * Sunprincess * (6/18/2014 12:14:00 PM)

    ...............this is a mysterious write....wonder whom she was thinking of.... and why can they not walk the beach together again....truly a mystery..... (Report) Reply

  • Jeryn Bean (8/3/2013 12:12:00 AM)

    I write poems from the heart, so they're not silly or anything like that. they are deep, And somber. If you like them or rate them, its up to you. All i ask is that you give them a chance. Please check out my poems. And let me know what you think if you want. (Report) Reply

  • Jack Growden (8/2/2013 1:35:00 AM)

    PLEASE READ MY COLLECTION! ! I am a young, aspiring poet. Feel free to rate and comment on my pieces. Thanks, Jack Growden (Report) Reply

  • Kevin Straw (8/2/2012 5:50:00 PM)

    Echeverria - I do not see the point of being on this site if all you are going to do is say aaah! at every poem like a gushing Elvis fan. It is a mistake to allow the rhetorical power of a poem to overcome the critical faculty. This is a good poem but there are bits and pieces where the poet fails a little in my opinion. The correct response to criticism is proof that the criticism is wrong, not For God's sake why do you not agree with me? (Report) Reply

  • Kevin Straw (8/2/2012 5:27:00 PM)

    This poem is a complete fantasy. None of it is true. The writer is hiding from the reality of death behind the windy verbiage of the second rate poet. I am the diamond glints on snow? What on earth does that mean? (Report) Reply

    Stephen W (8/2/2014 5:02:00 PM)

    You seem to have posted against the wrong poem here.

  • Cynthia Buhain-baello (8/2/2012 12:09:00 PM)

    I find this poem really tender and profound, a wistful thought for an absent love that returns with fleeting memories. (Report) Reply

  • Kevin Straw (8/2/2012 3:02:00 AM)

    “monotone” and “measured thunder” seem at variance – the former is boring, the latter is impressive.

    Also the waves are like the earth’s heart beat, and “monotone” seems inappropriate, although it might theoretically be right.

    Sand dunes do not echo.

    She spoils the rhythm in the third line – does she need “breaking” when she has “waves” and “measured thunder”.

    The last two lines might be:

    I heard the measured thunder of the waves
    As you and I once heard their heavy tone (Report) Reply

  • Assorted Thoughts (12/10/2011 7:58:00 PM)

    At first glance, it seemed as though the person whom Sarah was referring to was in the doghouse and would stay there for quite some time.
    In actuality, it could be interpreted in a myriad of ways
    Magicians and illusionists use props to achieve the same results, poets use words
    Sarah seems to be quite proficient in this arena which keeps me constantly intrigued
    BTW... settle down, buttmunch : -) (Report) Reply

  • Juan Olivarez (8/2/2011 11:47:00 AM)

    It seems Pruchnicki does not enjoy being judged by the same standards he so readily applies to others. Boo hoo poor Michael, is your diaper soiled. (Report) Reply

  • Michael Pruchnicki (8/2/2010 3:35:00 PM)

    Call a carping critic if you want the sort of picayune comments the master of prosody dispenses along with his anti-Christian diatribes! He wanders up and down the village street chanting his atheistic drivel to one and all, and then he levels his sights on the likes of me, an innocent bystander who likes to read his own stuff, for God's sake!

    As for stepping inside a writer's head, that is why readers have devised such fictions as the speaker's voice speaking for the writer. That way one can consider the printed page as a created character speaking what he will about the subject of the poem or story or whatever! The critical term 'concrete universal' refers to the fact that a work of art expresses the universal through the concrete and the particular. The way Teasdale represents this idea in the poem 'I Thought of You' is the solitary walk along the beach where the speaker (neither male nor female, but a grieving soul) identifies with the everlasting sound of waves breaking on a distant shore! The loneliness is magnified a thousand times, (Report) Reply

Read all 43 comments »

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