Poets

I am so thankful for those clever, talented souls who write beautiful poetry--thus giving us a way to express ourselves when without the help of the poet we'd be clumsy and fall short of saying just how we feel. Don't you love Hallmark cards? What would we do without them?

One of my favorite classes in high school was my English class, particularly when we studied poetry. I still have some of the poetry we analyzed back then. It was in high school when I learned a little about E. E. Cummings. One of my favorites of his is "Maggie and Millie and Molly and May..."

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

I love Cummings' unconventional style, and I love what I
learn about myself from this poem.
When Amy was small we went to the beach in
California and she delighted in collecting items that probably
said something about who she was.  I wonder what she would
now pick up from the leftovers buried in the sand as
the waves washed out to shore.  What would I be drawn to?
How about you?
Are you a Maggie, a Millie, a Mollie or a May?

Last year in our RS book club meeting one month we
shared poems. One of my friends shared another of
Cummings' poems which I immediately embraced
as one of my favorites.  I heard it again on a
movie last week and again it brought tears
to my eyes.  It's called "I carry your heart with me."

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

I would like to meet E. E. Cummings someday
and ask him who was his inspiration for his
beautiful work.

I like to write poetry, too, and
I've written poems for my kids
and grandchildren, but they only
hold meaning for us;
no one else would be inspired by my
work.  For example, here's a little rhyme
I wrote for my son, Michael, which described
well his contributions to our family:

"We call him the 'Fix-it Man,'
If anyone can, he can.
He'll take it apart
And get it to start,
He's Michael the fix-it man!"

(This can be sung to the tune of "Popeye the Sailor Man.")

Maybe sometime I'll post the rhymes of the songs I wrote
for my grandchildren, but I have to write a few more
before I share what I've already done.  I don't want
anyone to feel I've neglected them.

And now to you I say "adieu."

Blah Blah Blog...

This is just to say I'm still here, but feeling very weary at the moment and needing a nap. When I wake I'll be able to ponder on the significance of the day's events and I know I'll feel satisfied--very satisfied--at how this week is shaping up so far. But, man, I'm tired!