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

Happy Reading

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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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Friday Poetry: Eleanor Farjeon

Happy Friday!

I hope everyone has had a good week so far.

My chosen poem this week is by Eleanor Farjeon.

The Night Will Never Stay

The night will never stay,
The night will still go by,
Though with a million stars
You pin it to the sky,
Though you bind it with the blowing wind
And buckle it with the moon,
The night will slip away
Like sorrow or a tune.

Eleanor Farjeon

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Friday Poetry: Sarah Josepha Hale

Hello!

Happy Friday! I hope everyone has some exciting plans for the weekend.

My chosen poem this week is actually a nursery rhyme written by Sarah Josepha Hale. Hale (1788-1879) was an American writer, activist, and editor.

Mary Had a Little Lamb

Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go;
He followed her to school one day -
That was against the rule,
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.

And so the Teacher turned him out,
But still he lingered near,
And waited patiently about,
Till Mary did appear.
And then he ran to her and laid 
His head upon her arm,
As if he said - 'I'm not afraid - 
You'll shield me from all harm.'

'What makes the lamb love Mary so,'
The little children cry;
'O, Mary loves the lamb you know,'
The Teacher did reply,
'And you each gentle animal
In confidence may bind,
And make them follow at your call,
If you are always kind.'

Sarah Josepha Hale

Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Happy Friday!

My chosen poem this week is by the Victorian poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861). I thought this poem was a good choice for Valentine’s Day.

This sonnet is from Browning’s collection Sonnets from the Portuguese.

How Do I Love Thee?

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. 
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. 
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, 
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Happy Birthday

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Friday Poetry: Spike Milligan

Hello!

Happy Friday! I thought it was time for a poem by Spike Milligan as I haven’t shared one for ages.

On the Ning Nang Nong

On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the cows go Bong!
And the monkeys all say BOO!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots jibber jabber joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So it's Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong!
Nong Ning Nang
Trees go Ping!
Nong Ning Nang
The mice go Clang!
What a noisy place to belong
is the Ning Nang
Ning Nang Nong!!

Spike Milligan

Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: Sappho

Hello!

Happy Friday! I hope everyone has had a good week.

My chosen poem this week is by a favourite poet of mine and one I studied quite a bit for my dissertation. Sappho was an ancient Greek poet from the island of Lesbos. It is believed that this poem is the first time the moon was described as silver in any form of literature.

The Moon

The stars about the lovely moon
Fade back and vanish very soon,
When, round and full, her silver face
Swims into sight, and lights all space. 

Sappho

Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: Maya Angelou

Happy Friday!

I hope you all have some exciting weekend plans.

I have been trying to start my day with a bit of poetry recently and the other day I came upon this poem and it really left a mark on me so I have decided to share it.

My chosen poem is by the American poet Maya Angelou.

Caged Bird

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky. 

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and 
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing. 

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing. 

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: Robert Louis Stevenson

Happy Friday!

I hope everyone has exciting plans for the weekend.

My chosen poem this week is by Robert Louis Stevenson and the poem explores how imagination creates a whole new world for a child to play in.

The Land of Story Books

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything. 

Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.

There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter's camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.

These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And where the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.

I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.

So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Story Books.

Robert Louis Stevenson

Happy Reading

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Friday Poetry: A. A. Milne

Hello!

I hope everyone is coping well with the first week back at work after New Year. I have come down with a nasty cold so I must admit I have been resting and reading to hopefully get over it quickly.

My chosen poem today is by A. A. Milne.

Explained

Elizabeth Ann
Said to her Nan:
'Please will you tell me how God began?
Somebody must have made Him. So 
Who could it be, cos I want to know?'
And Nurse said, 'Well!'
And Ann said, 'Well?
I know you know, and I wish you'd tell.'
And Nurse took pins from her mouth, and said,
'Now then, darling, it's time for bed.'

Elizabeth Ann
Had a wonderful plan:
She would run round the world till she found a man
Who knew exactly how God began.

She got up early, she dressed, and ran
Trying to find an Important Man.
She ran to London and knocked at the door
Of the Lord High Doodelum's coach-and-four.
'Please, sir (if there's anyone in),
However-and-ever did God begin?'

The Lord High Doodelum lay in bed
But out of the window, large and red,
Came the Lord High Coachman's face instead. 
And the Lord High Coachman laughed and said:
'Well, what put that in your quaint little head?'

Elizabeth Ann went home again
And took from the ottoman Jennifer Jane.
'Jenniferjane,' said Elizabeth Ann,
'Tell me at once how God began.'
And Jane, who didn't much care for speaking,
Replied in her usual way by squeaking.

What did it mean? Well, to be quite candid,
I don't know, but Elizabeth Ann did.
Elizabeth Ann said softly, 'Oh!
Thank you Jennifer. Now I know.'

A. A. Milne

Happy Reading

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