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miranda by KatDiestel miranda by KatDiestel
some kind of puppet i made for a theater play
miranda from shakespeare's "the tempest"

Admired Miranda,
Indeed the top of admiration,
worth what‘s dearest to the world.
Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard,
and many a time
the harmony of their tongues hath into bondage brought
my too diligent ear.
For several virtues have I liked several women
never any with so full soul but some defect in her
did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,
and put it to the soil.
But you, Oh you,
so perfect and so peerless,
are created of every creature‘s best.


The Tempest - Ferdinand Act 3/i
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:iconlauratringaliholmes:
LauraTringaliHolmes Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2013
Love this :heart:
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:iconfbyronjones:
fbyronjones Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2008
The Planet On The Table
by Wallace Stevens

Ariel was glad he had written his poems.
They were of a remembered time
Or of something seen that he liked.

Other makings of the sun
Were waste and welter
And the ripe shrub writhed.

His self and the sun were one
And his poems, although makings of his self,
Were no less makings of the sun.

It was not important that they survive.
What mattered was that they should bear
Some lineament or character,

Some affluence, if only half-perceived,
In the poverty of their words,
Of the planet of which they were part.
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:iconkatdiestel:
KatDiestel Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
beautiful
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:iconfbyronjones:
fbyronjones Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
Yeah, Wally could sling words with the best of them. If you make enough noise, I'll consider sharing more of 'em with you in the dim future.
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:iconkatdiestel:
KatDiestel Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
alright, as soon as i have found my flaming torch. i'll get back to you about that.
and say hello to your collegue at the library.
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:iconfbyronjones:
fbyronjones Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
I have mentioned you and Ed to him already. I'm sure that he will be charmed by your greeting.

Oh, be sure to bring along your brass knuckles, as well. It pays to be prepared!
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:iconkatdiestel:
KatDiestel Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
i don't need them - i have fists of steel
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:iconfbyronjones:
fbyronjones Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
With spikes!
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:iconkatdiestel:
KatDiestel Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2008
exactly
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:iconfbyronjones:
fbyronjones Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2008
I might pitch a tent on this page for a while and sit with the words in peace. It is all so beautiful.

Thanks for sharing this!
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:iconkatdiestel:
KatDiestel Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
ok ok, i did not write them ...
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:iconblisterine66:
blisterine66 Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2007
Shy love, I think of you
As the morning air brushes the window pane,
And how much time of all it takes to know
The movement of your arm, the steps you take,
The curves along your head, your ears, your hair.
For all of this, each hand, each finger,
Each lip, each breath, each sigh,
Each word and sound of voice or tongue,
I would require an age to contemplate.
But for your heart your mind your thoughts, all these,
To love them all I need at least five centuries.



Sometimes I think
Our heads might be enclosed
Closer together upon the pillow's space,
And how into the dark deeps of your eyes
I'd look and think of angels. Then your breath
And all the aura of your body's breathing
Intoxicatedly would overwhelm me
And I would die. For it is too much
That such a thing should be and I should live.
Surely the thought is greater than reality,
The sum of you and love outsteps infinity.



If happiness were like
The flowers of June then I would take
The best of them, roses and columbine,
The lilies, and bind them in your hair.
They are not more beautiful but they add
Meaning to my love. For all our words
Are short and lame of breath and stumble,
And you surpass them though I know not why.
Shy love I think of you as the day wanes
And as the sun sinks deep into the ocean
And as the stars turn round above in silent motion.
:heart:
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:iconkatdiestel:
KatDiestel Featured By Owner Dec 12, 2007
Miranda by W.H.Auden

My dear one is mine as mirrors are lonely,
As the poor and sad are real to the good king,
And the high green hill sits always by the sea.

Up jumped the Black Man behind the elder tree,
Turned a somersault and ran away waving;
My Dear One is mine as mirrors are lonely.

The Witch gave a squawk; her venomous body
Melted into light as water leaves a spring,
And the high green hill sits always by the sea.

At his crossroads, too, the Ancient prayed for me,
Down his wasted cheeks tears of joy were running:
My dear one is mine as mirrors are lonely.

He kissed me awake, and no one was sorry;
The sun shone on sails, eyes, pebbles, anything,
And the high green hill sits always by the sea.

So to remember our changing garden, we
Are linked as children in a circle dancing:
My dear one is mine as mirrors are lonely,
And the high, green hill sits always by the sea.
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November 13, 2007
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