Madeira from the Sea
Sara Teasdale
1884 to 1933
Out of the delicate dream of the distance an emerald emerges
Veiled in the violet folds of the air of the sea;
Softly the dream grows awakening-shimmering white of a city,
Splashes of crimson, the gay bougainvillea, the palms.
High in the infinite blue of its heaven a quiet cloud lingers,
Lost and forgotten by winds that have fallen asleep,
Fallen asleep to the tune of a Portuguese song in a garden.
Sara Teasdale's Madeira from the Sea
I am busy working to bring Sara Teasdale's "Madeira from the Sea" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
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