Our poetry club began on Sunday, March 4…and what a kickoff it was! Our theme was favorite poem or favorite poet. All nine of us took turns reading our favorites which included:
e e cummings – bio
Robert Frost – bio
Joyce Kilmer – bio
Christopher Marlowe – bio
Sir Walter Ralegh – bio
Dalia Ravikovitch – bio
In the year to come, in the days to come
Pride
Laura Riding – bio
Theodore Roethke – bio
Wallace Stevens – bio
I look forward to checking in on this blog from time to time – very interesting with a wealth of info (links). Just thought I’d share the 2 short poems that we discussed in our recent book club (thx to Claire).
A Few Figs from Thistles, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
First Fig:
MY CANDLE burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends —
It gives a lovely light!
Second Fig:
SAFE upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!
Good luck with your new club!
Since you have posted one of my other poems which was a parody, I thought that I’d share this one with you as well.
It is based on – “Trees” by Joyce KILMER
“Trees”
I find that trees aren’t hard to please
Perhaps with this, you will agree …
For trees don’t shout ~ expand their chest
Or act like they know what is best;
Their elegance with bend and sway
Exemplifies without betray.
There’s never cause for curse or swear
Good nature finds true friendship there!
Their heart would serve but never strain
Your heart, your soul, your mind or brain.
Some dogs have attributes like these
Their nuance comes with bark disease …
© 2007 Joy A. Burki-Watson
very interesting. i’m adding in RSS Reader
I wanted to leave my poetical tribute for Robert Frost with you to comment on:
A Poet’s Poet (Robert Frost)
Whose words employ keen sense for wait,
Condense clear thought, embody fate?
Then pausing find the mind to share
Adventure’s ride through God’s estate.
With stylish class and natural flair
Keen eye observes and then lays bare
A sense that sates in finer wine,
Compassion’s grace save blinding glare.
A promise made then shared in rhyme
Each milestone laid still marking time.
From woods of snow to climax height
With ceaseless care for upward climb.
‘Tis Frost that warms stark still of night,
Lends wind to wings for lofty flight,
Who takes my days and paints them bright
And all because he paused to write …
© 2008 Joy A. Burki-Watson
Author notes:
My thoughts on a poet’s poet and how their dedication to sharing those silent moments can arouse one’s silent self to walk along.
A contest entry:
“In Honor of Frost” by Jim Berkheiser. 1560 points, ends February 5, 6 entries
http://allpoetry.com/poem/3836773
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
[…] left us another gift recently. But it is buried in the comments of our first post entitled We Begin which was written almost…almost…one year ago. Joy’s efforts certainly deserve […]