Today's poet

[Hes]

I ought to have posted this before my own scribblings because it was the poem that I took with me on my travels...given to me by my mum. Both Freckle and I have posted it before but that's the beauty of poety, I think, you revisit it at specific times in your life.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~

[Harry H Howgill]

I quite like the fact that this thread has been going long enough so that we can read some old favourites again. This is definately one for the Fell Poet's compilation.

I ought to have posted this before my own scribblings because it was the poem that I took with me on my travels...given to me by my mum. Both Freckle and I have posted it before but that's the beauty of poety, I think, you revisit it at specific times in your life.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~

[Harry H Howgill]

For today's theme of "home"...

Once Upon a Time

Benjamin Zephaniah

I dreamt of living in a great big house
With a great big cat and a great big mouse
With a great big cupboard
Full of great big pears
I would grow big
Without any cares.
Me great big hair on me great big head
Would feel great tucked into
Me great big bed
In me great bedroom
I would have great big fights
With my big shadow
Who is really bright,
A big sun shine would wake me up
I would drink juice from a great big cup
And a great big breakfast would make me feel great
And me school teachers would always be late.
I would speak great poems
With me great big voice
Great hugs and kisses
Would make me feel nice
This great world would work together as a team
I would live forever
In me great big dream.

[freckle]

Some amazing stuff on here which I will review at length when the bairns are asleep! but for now...

I told Sophe it was National Poetry Day and she asked me to post her poem about Halloween...so here goes

Halloween
Sophe (age 6)


Its a dark scary place
Its scares everyone's face
Children go out
and laugh and shout
Pumpkin lanterns light about
"Trick or treat" are the words you hear
every year.

[Harry H Howgill]

Some amazing stuff on here which I will review at length when the bairns are asleep! but for now...

I told Sophe it was National Poetry Day and she asked me to post her poem about Halloween...so here goes

Halloween
Sophe (age 6)


Its a dark scary place
Its scares everyone's face
Children go out
and laugh and shout
Pumpkin lanterns light about
"Trick or treat" are the words you hear
every year.

That's lovely. Tell Sophie: "BOO!"

[Harry H Howgill]

Pants

By Giles Andrae

Small pants, big pants,
Giant frilly pig pants,
New pants, blue pants, one, two, three.
Rich pants, poor pants,
Swinging on the door pants,
How many more pants can you see?

Groovy pants, funky pants,
Cheeky little monkey pants,
Pants you can wear if you’re ten feet tall!
Loose pants, tight pants,
Lighting up at night pants,
Black pants, white pants, no pants at all!

Pants to pick a daisy,
Pants for being lazy,
Pants on your head when you’ve gone crazy!
Funny pants, money pants,
Wear them when it’s sunny pants,
Have you seen these bunny pants? Yes I have!

Wear them when you’re happy pants,
Little baby nappy pants,
Special pants for driving in the car.
Fairy pants, hairy pants,
Run away from scary pants!
What a lot of lovely pants there are!

[stevefoster]

Far from being Pants, that's bloody brilliant HHH:thumbup:

[stevefoster]

Some amazing stuff on here which I will review at length when the bairns are asleep! but for now...

I told Sophe it was National Poetry Day and she asked me to post her poem about Halloween...so here goes

Halloween
Sophe (age 6)


Its a dark scary place
Its scares everyone's face
Children go out
and laugh and shout
Pumpkin lanterns light about
"Trick or treat" are the words you hear
every year.

Well done Sophie, a good un

[Sunbeam Alpine]

A seasonal one - and one of my favourites. There's an apple tree growng wild on the river bank - which I've fleeced of fruit. It would be good to know the type. I need to catch up with some of the posts - but I'll first grab an apple

MOONLIT APPLES

At the top of the house the apples are laid in rows,
And the skylight lets the moonlight in, and those
Apples are deep-sea apples of green. There goes
A cloud on the moon in the autumn night.

A mouse in the wainscot scratches, and scratches, and then
There is no sound at the top of the house of men
Or mice; and the cloud is blown, and the moon again
Dapples the apples with deep-sea light.

They are lying in rows there, under the gloomy beams;
On the sagging floor; they gather the silver streams
Out of the moon, those moonlit apples of dreams,
And quiet is the steep stair under.

In the corridors under there is nothing but sleep.
And stiller than ever on orchard boughs they keep
Tryst with the moon, and deep is the silence, deep
On moon-washed apples of wonder

[Harry H Howgill]

Far from being Pants, that's bloody brilliant HHH:thumbup:

It is a kiddies book that I picked off the shelf tonight and thought I'd share it with you.