I went for a walk yesterday and stopped to take a picture of the scene before me. And yes, I was a little mopey during the walk. It happens. It’s not all sunshine and roses with me, people. I know – shocking. Anyway, all that kept going through my mind was this beautiful, melancholy poem by Dorothy Parker. This chick knew her stuff.
And I think she knows my heart.
by: Dorothy Parker
Now this must be the sweetest place
From here to heaven’s end;
The field is white and flowering lace,
The birches leap and bend,
The hills, beneath the roving sun,
From green to purple pass,
And little, trifling breezes run
Their fingers through the grass.
So good it is, so gay it is,
So calm it is, and pure.
A one whose eyes may look on this
Must be the happier, sure.
But me- I see it flat and gray
And blurred with misery,
Because a lad a mile away
Has little need of me.