Today's poet

[Mossdog]

A Love Song

Theodosia Garrison


MY love it should be silent, being deep—
And being very peaceful should be still—
Still as the utmost depths of ocean keep—
Serenely silent as some mighty hill.

Yet is my love so great it needs must fill
With very joy the inmost heart of me,
The joy of dancing branches on the hill
The joy of leaping waves upon the sea.

[Mossdog]

Surprised by joy - impatient as the wind

Surprised by joy – impatient as the wind
I turned to share the transport – Oh! With whom
But thee, long buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind –
But how could I forget thee? - Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss? – That thought's return
Was the worse pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

William Wordsworth

Great choice Alf - thanks for posting, that's a new on for me as I'm embarrassed to say that I've been very neglectful of Wordsworth

[Hes]

Lovely Mossdog and I really enjoyed Alf's Wordsworth and Merry's abc choice.

So many great things have been posted and this forumite has been too careworn/overworked lately to enjoy.

Lovers emotions
as the turmultuous sea
endless ebb and flow

Its nice to be here again, albeit briefly!

A Love Song

Theodosia Garrison


MY love it should be silent, being deep—
And being very peaceful should be still—
Still as the utmost depths of ocean keep—
Serenely silent as some mighty hill.

Yet is my love so great it needs must fill
With very joy the inmost heart of me,
The joy of dancing branches on the hill
The joy of leaping waves upon the sea.

[mr brightside]

Seeing my mother's chives consuming the garden in a riot of purple flowers reminded me of this which hangs on our kitchen units:

When i am an old woman i shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

[Alf]

Seeing my mother's chives consuming the garden in a riot of purple flowers reminded me of this which hangs on our kitchen units:

When i am an old woman i shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

I liked that Mr B even if a bit of it was a bit close to home

This is by John Clare who wrote it after he had been committed to an asylum and is about his illness.

I am

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.


John Clare

[freckle]

Into My Own

ONE of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day
Into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew--
Only more sure of all I thought was true.

Robert Frost

There have been some really gorgeous choices on here the past couple of days, this being one of my fave's but I also enjoyed the contributions from Hes, Merry, Alf and Mr B.

Mr B I have come across that poem before and found it both reassuring and funny! Alf I really liked the Clare poem, I hadn't realised that he had suffered from depression and it prompted me to look up more info.... its seems that he was torn throughout his life between writing poetry and providing for his family and that in some ways that may have contributed to his depression, I think he also felt like a fish out of water at times, not fitting in in his working class/agricultural background or in the London of the 18th to 19th century. Knowing this and reading the poem makes it that bit more moving and poignant....I think it very eloquently describes his sense of alienation and also the longing for a more peaceful and harmonious existence. I really liked the following lines...

"I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky."



Interesting stuff!

[freckle]

In wonder if this one was for Mary Joyce?


I Hid My Love

I hid my love when young till I
Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;
I hid my love to my despite
Till I could not bear to look at light;
I dare not gaze upon her face
But left her memory in each place;
Where'er I saw a wild flower lie
I kissed and bade my love goodbye.

I met her in the greenest dells,
Where dewdrops pearl the wood bluebells;
The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye,
The bee kissed and went singing by,
A sunbeam found a passage there,
A gold chain round her neck so fair;
As secret as the wild bee's song
She lay there all the summer long.

I hid my love in field and town
Till e'en the breeze would knock me down;
The bees seemed singing ballads o'er,
The fly's bass turned to lion's roar;
And even the silence found a tongue,
To haunt me all the summer long;
The riddle nature could not prove
Was nothing else but secret love.

John Clare

[freckle]

Lovely Mossdog and I really enjoyed Alf's Wordsworth and Merry's abc choice.

So many great things have been posted and this forumite has been too careworn/overworked lately to enjoy.

Lovers emotions
as the turmultuous sea
endless ebb and flow

Its nice to be here again, albeit briefly!

Nice haiku Hes :-)

[Derby Tup]

I like the new signature freckle

Sandpiper fledglings
attempt tentative first steps
by bubbling Wharfe

[freckle]

I like the new signature freckle

Sandpiper fledglings
attempt tentative first steps
by bubbling Wharfe

Lovely haiku DT...the new signature is from il postino (you probably knew that being a pablo fan!!!) which I started watching the other night and loved but fell asleep ( i think i am getting on as this happens regularly now)