I hope everyone has had a good week so far and have some exciting plans for the weekend.
My chosen poem this week is one that really made me giggle when I read it, so I thought I would share it. The poem is by the American children’s poet Kenn Nesbitt (1962).
I heard that they've got Einstein's brain
just sitting in a jar.
I don't know where they keep it,
but I hope it isn't far.
I need to go and borrow it
to help me with this test.
I've answered twenty questions
but on every one I guessed.
If someone asks you where I've gone,
then kindly please explain
I'll be right back; I've just gone out
to look for Einstein's brain.
I hope everyone has had a good week and is looking forward to the weekend.
My chosen poem this week is by the Saint Lucian poet and playwright Derek Walcott (1930-2017).
Broad sun-stoned beaches.
A green river.
scorched yellow palms
from the summer-sleeping house
drowsing through August.
Days I have held,
days I have lost,
days that outgrow, like daughters,
my harbouring arms.
I hope everyone has some good plans for the weekend.
My chosen poem this week is by the American poet Theodore Roethke (1908-1963).
In moving slow he has no Peer.
You ask him something in his Ear,
He thinks about it for a Year;
And, then, before he says a Word
There, upside down (unlike a Bird),
He will assume that you have Heard
A most Ex-as-per-at-ing Lug.
But should you call his manner Smug,
He'll sigh and give his Branch a Hug;
Then off again to Sleep he goes,
Still swaying gently by his Toes,
And you just know he knows he knows.
I hope everyone has got some good plans for the weekend.
My chosen poem this week is by a new poet for me. Franz Wright (1953-2015) was an American poet.
Think of a sheep
knitting a sweater;
think of your life
getting better and better.
Think of your cat
asleep in a tree;
think of that spot
where you once skinned your knee.
Think of a bird
that stands in your palm.
Try to remember
the Twenty-first Psalm.
Think of a big pink horse
think of a fly, and
close your mouth.
If you feel thirsty, then
drink from your cup.
The birds will keep singing
until they wake up.
On this day in 1932 Amelia Earhart (1897- disappeared 1937, declared dead 1939) made history as the first female to complete a transatlantic flight. She departed from Harbour Grace in Newfoundland, in the morning and flew for 14 hours and 56 minutes before landing in Northern Ireland.
Courage is the price that Life exacts for granting peace.
The soul that knows it not knows no release
From little things:
Knows not the livid loneliness of fear,
Nor mountain heights where bitter joy can hear
The sound of wings.
How can life grant us boon of living, compensate
For dull gray ugliness and pregnant hate
Unless we dare
The soul's dominion? Each time we make a choice, we pay
With courage to behold the resistless day,
And count it fair.
My chosen poem this week is by the children’s poet James Carter (1959).
Love You More
Do I love you
to the moon and back?
No I love you
more than that
I love you to the desert sands
the mountains, stars
the planets and
I love you to the deepest sea
and deeper still
Before beyond I love you then
I love you now
I'll love you when
The sun's gone out
the moon's gone home
and all the stars are fully grown
When I no longer say these words
I'll give them to the wind, the birds
so that they will still be heard
I love you.
My chosen poem this week is by the author and poet Mary Ann Hoberman (1930).
Think how fast a year flies by
A month flies by
A week flies by
Think how fast a day flies by
A Mayfly's life lasts but a day
A single day
To live and die
A single day
How fast it goes
Both of these.
A Mayfly flies a single day
The daylight dies and darkness grows
A single day
How fast it flies
A Mayfly's life
How fast it grows.
Mary Ann Hoberman
I hope everyone has some good plans for the weekend. I have another busy weekend ahead but I am hoping to fit in some reading.
My chosen poem this week is by E. V. Rieu (1887-1972) who is best known for translating The Odyssey.
The Hippopotamus's Birthday
He has opened all his parcels
but the largest and the last;
His hopes are at their highest
and his heart is beating fast.
O happy Hippopotamus,
what lovely gift is here?
He cuts the string. The world stands still.
A pair of boots appear!
O little Hippopotamus,
the sorrows of the small!
He dropped two tears to mingle
with the flowing Senegal;
And the 'Thank you' that he uttered
was the saddest ever heard
In the Senegambian jungle
from the mouth of beast or bird.
E. V. Rieu
My chosen poem this week is by the poet and author Edith Nesbit (1858-1924).
Child's Song in Spring
The Silver Birch is a dainty lady,
She wears a satin gown;
The elm tree makes the old churchyard shady,
She will not live in town.
The English oak is a sturdy fellow,
He gets his green coat late;
The willow is smart in a suit of yellow
While brown the beech trees wait.
Such a gay green gown God gives the larches -
As green as he is good!
The hazels hold up their arms for arches,
When spring rides through the wood.
The chestnut's proud, and the lilac's pretty,
The poplar's gentle and tall,
But the plane tree's kind to the poor dull city -
I love him best of all!