Fiona’s Reviews > Poetry of the Zodiac: Discover Your Celestial World Through Verse > Status Update
Fiona
is on page 45 of 160
I STOOD UPON A STAR
—Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
I stretched my mind until I stood
Out in space, upon a star;
I looked, and saw the flying earth
Where seven planets are.
Delicately interweaving
Like fireflies on a moist June night
The planetoids among the planets
Played for their own delight
I watched earth putting off her winter
And slipping into green;
I saw the dark side of the moon
No man has ever seen.
— Aug 25, 2026 05:13PM
—Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
I stretched my mind until I stood
Out in space, upon a star;
I looked, and saw the flying earth
Where seven planets are.
Delicately interweaving
Like fireflies on a moist June night
The planetoids among the planets
Played for their own delight
I watched earth putting off her winter
And slipping into green;
I saw the dark side of the moon
No man has ever seen.
Like flag
Fiona’s Previous Updates
Fiona
is on page 149 of 160
THE WAY IT IS
William Stafford (1914–1993)
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
— Aug 30, 2026 09:46PM
William Stafford (1914–1993)
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
Fiona
is on page 146 of 160
EARTH’S EMBROIDERY
With the ink of its showers and rains,
with the quill of its lightening,
with the hand of its clouds,
winter wrote a letter upon the garden , in purple and blue.
No artist could ever conceive the like of that.
And this is why the earth, grown jealous of the sky,
embroidered stars in the folds of the flower-beds.
–Solomon Ibn Gabirol (c.1022–c.1070)
Translated by T Carmi
— Aug 29, 2026 06:37PM
With the ink of its showers and rains,
with the quill of its lightening,
with the hand of its clouds,
winter wrote a letter upon the garden , in purple and blue.
No artist could ever conceive the like of that.
And this is why the earth, grown jealous of the sky,
embroidered stars in the folds of the flower-beds.
–Solomon Ibn Gabirol (c.1022–c.1070)
Translated by T Carmi
Fiona
is on page 104 of 160
A HYMN TO VENUS (Extract)
—Sappho (c. 630–c. 570 BCE)
Translated by Ambrose Philips
O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gayly false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles,
O goddess! from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.
If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft distress preferred,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
— Aug 28, 2026 05:53PM
—Sappho (c. 630–c. 570 BCE)
Translated by Ambrose Philips
O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gayly false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles,
O goddess! from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.
If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft distress preferred,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
Fiona
is on page 98 of 160
93 PERCENT STARDUST
We have calcium in our bones,
iron in our veins,
carbon in our souls,
and nitrogen in our brains.
93 percent stardust,
with souls made of flames,
we are all just stars
that have people names
—Nikita Gill (b. 1987)
— Aug 27, 2026 05:46PM
We have calcium in our bones,
iron in our veins,
carbon in our souls,
and nitrogen in our brains.
93 percent stardust,
with souls made of flames,
we are all just stars
that have people names
—Nikita Gill (b. 1987)
Fiona
is on page 90 of 160
A MAIDEN
—Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
Oh if I were the velvet rose
Upon the red rose vine,
I’d climb to touch his window
And make his casement fine.
And if I were the bright-eyed bird
That twitters on the tree
All day I’d sing my love for him
Till he should harken me.
But since I am a maiden
I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
That he has turned to sighs.
— Aug 27, 2026 05:38PM
—Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
Oh if I were the velvet rose
Upon the red rose vine,
I’d climb to touch his window
And make his casement fine.
And if I were the bright-eyed bird
That twitters on the tree
All day I’d sing my love for him
Till he should harken me.
But since I am a maiden
I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
That he has turned to sighs.
Fiona
is on page 64 of 160
The Crystal Gazer
—Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
I shall gather myself into myself again,
I shall take my scattered shelves and make them one,
Fusing them into a polished crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,
Watching the future come and the present go,
And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
In restless self-importance to and fro.
— Aug 26, 2026 06:06PM
—Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
I shall gather myself into myself again,
I shall take my scattered shelves and make them one,
Fusing them into a polished crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,
Watching the future come and the present go,
And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
In restless self-importance to and fro.

