In my heart's most secret place, I pity them as angels do. - Sara Teasdale

asked the heaven of stars
What I should give my love — It answered me with silence,
Silence above.
I asked the darkened sea
Down where the fishers go — It answered me with silence,
Silence below.
Oh, I could give him weeping,
Or I could give him song — But how can I give silence,
My whole life long?

The Net

I made you many and many a song,
Yet never one told all you are — It was as though a net of words
Were flung to catch a star;

It was as though I curved my hand
And dipped sea-water eagerly,
Only to find it lost the blue
Dark splendor of the sea.

I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea, Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes.