Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

To a Bed of Tulips!

May 20, 2019

Here in Oklahoma, we have long said goodbye to our beds of tulips, but here is a poem by Robert Herrick (in the public domain) on this very topic.

To a Bed of Tulips

Bright tulips, we do know
You had your coming hither,
And fading-time does show
That ye must quickly wither.

Your sisterhoods may stay,
And smile here for your hour;
But die ye must away,
Even as the meanest flower.

Come, virgins, then, and see
Your frailties, and bemoan ye;
For, lost like these, ’twill be
As time had never known ye.
by Robert Herrick

Source: Garden Poems, selected and edited by John Hollander, p. 122

The Rain: a Song of Peace!

April 20, 2019

Spring has sprung and you know what they say about April showers . . . But if we’re not talking about flowers, here is a poem about the rains in spring that was written during the Franco-German war. (by Denis Florence MacCarthy).  Here is a link to the ebook of his poems (courtesy of Project Gutenberg).

The Rain: A Song of Peace.

The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain –
Welcome, welcome, it cometh again;
It cometh with green to gladden the plain,
And to wake the sweets in the winding lane.

The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
It fills the flowers to their tiniest vein,
Till they rise from the sod whereon they had lain –
Ah, me! ah, me! like an army slain.

The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
Each drop is a link of a diamond chain
That unites the earth with its sin and its stain
To the radiant realm where God doth reign.

The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
Each drop is a tear not shed in vain,
Which the angels weep for the golden grain
All trodden to death on the gory plain;

For Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
Will waken the golden seeds again!
But, ah! what power will revive the slain,
Stark lying death over fair Lorraine?

’Twere better far, O beautiful Rain,
That you swelled the torrent and flooded the main;
And that Winter, with all his spectral train,
Alone lay camped on the icy plain.

For then, O Rain, O beautiful Rain,
The snow-flag of peace were unfurl’d again;
And the truce would be rung in each loud refrain
Of the blast replacing the bugle’s strain.

Then welcome, welcome, beautiful Rain,
Thou bringest flowers to the parched-up plain;
Oh! for many a frenzied heart and brain,
Bring peace and love to the world again!

Source: Public Domain Poetry

The Sign of Spring!

March 21, 2019

Now that spring has officially arrived, the appearance of robins in the trees and skies will be forthcoming.  Here is a wonderful poem by Emily Dickinson about the robin.

The Robin

The robin is the one
That interrupts the morn
With hurried, few, express reports
When March is scarcely on.

The robin is the one
That overflows the noon
With her cherubic quantity,
An April but begun.

The robin is the one
That speechless from her nest
Submits that home and certainty
And sanctity are best.

Source: Public Domain Poetry — Emily Dickinson

The Lady from Woosester!

March 10, 2019

I have always been a fan of puns, wordplay, limericks, etc.  So, when I discovered this collection of limericks, I just couldn’t resist sharing one from time to time.  This one was not attributed to anyone in particular.

There was a young lady from Woosester
Who ussessed to crow like a rooserter.
She ussessed to climb
Seven trees at a time –
But her siseter ussessed to boosester.

Happy Valentine’s Day, 2019!

February 14, 2019

On this the day of romance and love, how about a poem (from long ago) that basically is calling Cupid a pussy for having been stung by a bee?

The Wounded Cupid.  Song

Cupid as he lay among
Roses, by a Bee was stung.
Whereupon in anger flying
To his Mother, said thus crying;
Help! O help! your Boy’s a dying.
And why, my pretty Lad, said she?
Then blubbering, replied he,
A winged Snake has bitten me,
Which Country people call a Bee.
At which she smil’d; then with her hairs,
And kisses drying up his tears:
Alas! said she, my Wag! if this
Such a pernicious torment is:
Come tell me then, how great’s the smart
Of those, thou woundest with thy Dart!

Source: Anacreon (6th Century BC), translated by Robert Herrick.  Public Domain Poetry – Robert Herrick

The Mixup!

February 10, 2019

I have always been a fan of puns, wordplay, limericks, etc.  So, when I discovered this collection of limericks, I just couldn’t resist sharing one from time to time.  This one was authored by Morris Bishop.

Said a lady beyond Pompton Lakes
“I do make such silly mistakes!
Now the car’s in the hall!
It went right through the wall
When I mixed up the gas and the brakes.”

Morris Bishop

“There Is a Meadow . . .!”

January 20, 2019

My favorite movie of 2017 was Wind River by Taylor Sheridan.  Here is opening poem . . .

There is a meadow in my perfect
world. Where wind dances the
branches of a tree, casting leopard
spots of light across the face of a
pond …

The tree stands tall and grand and
alone, shading the world beneath
it.

There will come a day when I rest
against its spine and look out over
a valley where the sun warms, but
never burns …

I will watch leaves turn. Green,
then amber, then crimson. Then no
leaves at all …

But the tree will not die. For in
this place, winter never comes …
It is here, in the cradle of all I
hold dear, I guard every memory of
you.

And when I find myself frozen in
the mud of the real — far from
your loving eyes, I will return to
this place, close mine, and take
solace in the simple perfection of
knowing you.

 

Keeping Busy is Better Than Nothing!

January 10, 2019

I have always been a fan of puns, wordplay, limericks, etc.  So, when I discovered this collection of limericks, I just couldn’t resist sharing one from time to time.  This one was authored by John Ciardi.

Keeping Busy is Better Than Nothing

There was a young lady named Sue,
Who had nothing whatever to do.
And who did it so badly,
I thought she would gladly
Have stopped long before she was through.

Source: A Bundle of Birdbrains . . . Lots of Limericks selected by Myra Cohn Livingston

Happy New Year, 2019!

January 1, 2019

And so we begin another year . . . and what better way to begin than through this poem by Eliza Cook.

Song for the New Year (Eliza Cook, 1818-1889)

Old Time has turned another page
      Of eternity and truth;
He reads with a warning voice to age,
      And whispers a lesson to youth.
A year has fled o’er heart and head
      Since last the yule log burnt;
And we have a task to closely ask,
      What the bosom and brain have learnt?
Oh! let us hope that our sands have run
      With wisdom’s precious grains;
Oh! may we find that our hands have done
      Some work of glorious pains.
Then a welcome and cheer to the merry new year,
      While the holly gleams above us;
With a pardon for the foes who hate,
      And a prayer for those who love us.

We may have seen some loved ones pass
      To the land of hallow’d rest;
We may miss the flow of an honest brow
      And the warmth of a friendly breast:
But if we nursed them while on earth,
      With hearts all true and kind,
Will their spirits blame the sinless mirth
      Of those true hearts left behind?
No, no! it were not well or wise
      To mourn with endless pain;
There’s a better world beyond the skies,
      Where the good shall meet again.
Then a welcome and cheer to the merry new year.
      While the holly gleams above us;
With a pardon for the foes who hate,
      And a prayer for those who love us.

Have our days rolled on serenely free
      From sorrow’s dim alloy?
Do we still possess the gifts that bless
      And fill our souls with joy?
Are the creatures dear still clinging near?
      Do we hear loved voices come?
Do we gaze on eyes whose glances shed
      A halo round our home?
Oh, if we do, let thanks be pour’d
      To Him who hath spared and given,
And forget not o’er the festive board
      The mercies held from heaven.
Then a welcome and cheer to the merry new year,
      While the holly gleams above us;
With a pardon for the foes who hate,
      And a prayer for those who love us.

Source: This poem appeared in Melaia and Other Poems (Charles Tilt, 1840). It is in the public domain.

Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming!

December 20, 2018

This is one of my all time favorite Christmas hymns to sing.  Check out the Mormon Tabernacle Choir version here.

Lo, how a rose e’er blooming,
From tender stem hath sprung.
Of Jesse’s lineage coming,
As men of old have sung;
It came, a flow’ret bright,
Amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.

Isaiah ’twas foretold it,
The Rose I have in mind,
With Mary we behold it,
The virgin mother kind;
To show God’s love aright,
She bore to men a Savior,
When half spent was the night.

O Flower, whose fragrance tender
With sweetness fills the air,
Dispel with glorious splendour
The darkness everywhere;
True man, yet very God,
From Sin and death now save us,
And share our every load.