Today's Poem - Printable Version +- WineBoard (https://www.wines.com/wineboard) +-- Forum: GENERAL (https://www.wines.com/wineboard/forum-100.html) +--- Forum: Talk With Your Moderators (https://www.wines.com/wineboard/forum-3.html) +--- Thread: Today's Poem (/thread-21008.html) Pages:
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- Auburnwine - 04-16-2003 Hey y'all, I've been out of town for a couple of weeks and am pleased to see that you have been bravely carrying on without me. Since I have no new wine notes to add, I thought I would share one of my favorite poems. THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS - Wendell Berry When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. - Georgie - 04-16-2003 That's beautiful, Auburnwine. We do spend a lot of our time spinning our wheels in worry. Thanks for sharing. - winedope1 - 04-16-2003 thanks Auburn, thats beautiful. I'm printing a copy to go in my office to remind me. WD - wondersofwine - 04-16-2003 Beautiful poem! Some of my favorite dreams feature river banks. I grew up in landlocked Nebraska and really appreciate water (drove by Lake St. Clair every day when I taught in Michigan; lived for three years with a partial bay view of Monterey Bay and took my walks starting on the shoreline in Pacific Grove and heading towards Pebble Beach and Asilomar). Monterey has a near perfect climate for walking year round. - hotwine - 04-16-2003 Sorry, but it conjures up images of skeeter hordes to me... - Georgie - 04-16-2003 Oh, HW go wrangle something, would ya? [img]http://www.wines.com/ubb2/tongue.gif[/img] - hotwine - 04-16-2003 Okie-doke. Git, li'l dogie! - winedope1 - 04-17-2003 "it's your misfortune and none of my own" WD - winoweenie - 04-17-2003 I decided to sit in the hot-tub. WW - hotwine - 04-17-2003 Sounds like a winner, Weener. Thinkin' about installin' one, too. - Kcwhippet - 04-17-2003 Check out [url=http://www.softub.com.]www.softub.com.[/url] We got one because of what we found are distinct advantages over more conventional hot tubs. It has two major components - the tub and the motor. The tub contains all the tubing and jets. The motor assembly is just that. There's no heater since it scavenges the heat from the motor to heat the water. It's very light. We have it on the upper deck during the winter so we can go right out through the sliders in one step and into the tub. In the spring, we drain it and separate the motor from the tub. Then we roll the tub to the lower patio, carry the motor down, reattach them, fill it and the next day we're set to go. Price is considerably lower than hard tubs, too. We love it! - hotwine - 04-17-2003 Thanks for the tip! - winedope1 - 04-17-2003 sounds great, KC! hhmmmmm. now I need to find a model that will fit on my minescule porch... - Kcwhippet - 04-17-2003 Softub has a few sizes, even one that will fit on a tiny porch. - ShortWiner - 04-17-2003 Thanks for that poem, Auburn. Very timely. We had a Wendell Berry poem read at our wedding--The Wild Rose. [img]http://www.wines.com/ubb2/smile.gif[/img] - Georgie - 04-18-2003 So why not share that poem with the rest of us, SW? - Auburnwine - 04-18-2003 Wendell was one of my writing teachers at UK. No one writes better poetry focused on nature. If you have just one poetry book (or want to give one as a present), his Sabbaths is absolutely marvelous. It is complex (yet very accessible) and filled with heart-breakingly-beautiful images. - wondersofwine - 04-18-2003 Karl Shapiro was my writing instructor in the mid-60's at the University of Nebraska. He received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry for "V-Letters and Other Poems" and later edited "Poetry" magazine in Chicago I believe. (He was a native of Bal'more, Drew). I don't read enough poetry these days. You inspired me Auburnwine to get hold of "Sabbaths" and read that and other poetry. I have a favorite poem about nature by William Cullen Bryant. Will look it up next week and send along a snippet (too lengthy too post the whole poem). - Georgie - 04-18-2003 OK...here's my favorite poem for this time of year! PUTTING IN THE SEED By Robert Frost You come and fetch me from my work tonight When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see If I can leave off burying the white Soft petals fallen from the apple tree. (Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea; And go along with you ere you lose sight Of what you came for and become like me, Slave to a springtime passion for the earth. How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed On through the watching for that early birth When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, The sturdy seedling with arched body comes Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs. [This message has been edited by Georgie (edited 04-18-2003).] [This message has been edited by Georgie (edited 04-18-2003).] - Auburnwine - 04-18-2003 What a very nice poem. I had great fun learning "Stopping By Woods" this year when my lad was learning it. Wonders, I have always enjoyed Karl Shapiro. There are so many brilliant poets working these days (or recently deceased). North Carolinians A. R. Ammons and Mary Oliver are brilliant. Denise Levertov gets to the heart of the matter, with words and ideas. The beauty (and eros) of Li-Young Lee's work will bring you to tears. I have to confess my own recent effort. It's kind of grim, but I felt like I had to write something about going to "parents' day lunch" at my 10-year-old's school. This lad has had some tough breaks. His single-parent father died two weeks ago from cancer and he himself is being treated for inoperable brain cancer. ---------------------------------- Orphans Donovan is back at school, his father buried. The latest chemotherapy has puffed his face and blushed his cheeks. I sat with him at lunch, after Ethan and the others had gone out to recess. His small right hand hangs awkwardly, like an old man with a stroke, and he drags that stiffened leg. I helped him wipe the spilled potatoes from his pants and clean the peaches from his shirt. He smiled up sweetly, eyes bright, as we talked about ice cream that we had had, our favorite flavors. Simple, declarative words. And together we walked down the hall to his music class, slowly, as if we had all the time in the world. -------------------------------------- My son now insists on helping Donovan with his lunch and walking him to his classes. The other kids are all pitching in as well. Kids are really, really decent. |