Fair Weather

Dorothy ParkerDorothy Parker

1 min read · 12.4K reads

This level reach of blue is not my sea;
Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun,
Whose quiet ripples meet obediently
A marked and measured line, one after one.
This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves
Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.
I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;
They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.So let a love beat over me again,
Loosing its million desperate breakers wide;
Sudden and terrible to rise and wane;
Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide
That casts upon the heart, as it recedes,
Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.
Dorothy Parker
About the poet

Dorothy Parker

1893 - 1967/Female/AmericanA poet, short story writer, critic, and satirist, she's best known for her wit, wisecracks and eye for 20th-century urban foibles.

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