Friday Poetry: Amelia Earhart

Happy Friday!

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

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. 

Amelia Earhart

Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: James Carter

Happy Friday!

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
through history
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.

James Carter

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Friday Poetry: Mary Ann Hoberman

Happy Friday!

I hope you all have good plans for the weekend.

My chosen poem this week is by the author and poet Mary Ann Hoberman (1930).

Mayfly

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
The day
The Mayfly
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

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Friday Poetry: E. V. Rieu

Happy Friday!

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

Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: Edith Nesbit

Hello!

Happy Friday!

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!

Edith Nesbit


Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: G. K. Chesterton

Hello!

I hope everyone has some lovely plans for Easter. My chosen poem this week is one for Easter. I rather like it because it is the donkey narrating rather than a human voice.

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn, 
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
Of all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour,
One far fierce hour and sweet. 
There was a shout about my ears, 
And palms before my feet. 

G. K. Chesterton





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Friday Poetry: Philip Larkin

Hello!

Happy Friday! Apologies for being absent for so long but I decided to have a little break from the blog for a little while.

My chosen poem this week is by the poet Philip Larkin.

The Trees

The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread, 
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too. 
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May. 
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh. afresh, afresh.

Philip Larkin

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Friday Poetry: Norman MacCaig

Hello!

Happy Friday!

My chosen poem this week is by the Scottish poet and teacher Norman MacCaig (1910-1996).

Toad

Stop looking like a purse. How could a purse
Squeeze under the rickety door and sit,
Full of satisfaction in a man's house?

You clamber towards me on your four corners -
Right hand, left foot, left hand, right foot.

I love you for being a toad,
For crawling like a Japanese wrestler,
And for not being frightened

I put you in my purse hand not shutting it, 
And set you down outside directly under
Every star.

A jewel in your head? Toad,
You've put one in mine, 
A tiny radiance in a dark place.

Norman MacCaig

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Friday Poetry: Emily Dickinson

Hello!

I hope everyone has some good plans for the weekend.

The poem I have chosen this week really struck me when I read it so I thought I would share it.

'Hope' is the Thing with Feathers

'Hope' is the thing with feathers - 
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words - 
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - 
And sore must be the storm - 
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm - 

I've heard it in the chillest land - 
And on the strangest Sea - 
Yet, never, in Extremity, 
It asked a crumb - of Me. 

Emily Dickinson

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Friday Poetry: John Agard

Hello!

Happy Friday! I hope everyone has some good books planned for the weekend.

My chosen poem this week is by the Afro-Guyanese playwright, poet and children’s writer John Agard.

A Date with Spring

Got a date with spring
Got to look my best.
Of all the trees
I'll be the smartest dressed.

Perfumed breeze 
behind me ear.
Pollen accessories
all in place.

Raindrop moisturizer
for me face.
Sunlight tints
to spruce up the hair. 

What's the good of being a tree
if you can't flaunt your beauty?

Winter, I was naked
Exposed as can be.
Me wardrobe took off
with the wind.

Life was a frosty slumber.
Now, spring, here I come.
Can't wait to slip in
to me little green number. 

John Agard

Happy Reading

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