Sunday, January 27, 2008

An Original Poem....

From Our Hearts' Haven......

My oldest (19yrs) was to write a poem for her British Literature class at the local college. Most people balk at being TOLD to write a poem......add Anne to that list. :) The poem was to be in a similar style to William Blake (1757–1827). I hear tell, she sat at the table saying: Treadmill, Treadmill.........Winter, Winter.........and finally in frustration, looking at her notebook, found her inspiration! What do you think? She writes like a poet to me! :)

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The Sighs of a Non-poet

Notebook! Notebook! gleaming white
For Poetry I cannot write
Heavily my heart doth sigh,
I’m longing for a cup of chai.

Searching my mind for a single rhyme,
This poem is due, but I need more time
Who can help—some muse perhap’?
Oh glad would I sit in Inspiration’s lap.

Type, I must, but all in vain
My soul dry, I distrust my brain;
I am not Milton, Blake, or More,
Creating stanzas is such a chore.

Notebook! Notebook! gleaming white
Yet Poetry I’m forced to write
Fill the page with a clever lie,
Now where is that cup of chai?

Disclaimer: Anne considers herself poet in no way whatsoever.

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She actually wrote that last comment at the top of her paper. Poem reprinted here with pernission from the author. :)

It is based on the following poem of Blake's:

William Blake.

The Tiger

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?



Enjoy! Blessings on this snowy night!

~C~

4 comments:

Paula in MN said...

I love the poem! Hopefully the Professor is smart enough to give her an 'A'!

Shawna said...

Does Anne realize that many of us would be very happy to have her disability in poetry? What a charming, funny, and clever piece!
xo
Shawna

Surprised by Joy said...

very impressive, good job Anne!!

Molly McGovern

I said...

I love it, Anne! Especially sitting on Inspiration's lap!

Love you,
Aunt JEN