April 30, 2009 is the second national Poem In Your Pocket Day. Please click this link http://www.poets.org/ if you would like more information......
Charli and I are excited to announce our very first participation in Poem In Your Pocket Day. We hope all of you will join us by posting one of your favorite poems on your blog. Just leave us a comment so we can come visit. If you would like you can use our button. What is your favorite poem? Why is it important to you? Who is the author? Do you celebrate Poem In Your Pocket Day in your home, your school, or perhaps your place of employment? We would love to hear from you. Some additional ideas for a post could be a dinner or a tea with a specific Poem In Your Pocket theme. What about a gift that you give or make for some one special in your life. Some people are sending e-mails with a poem, or even letters with a poem tucked inside. The possibilities are endless. People all over the country are celebrating Poem In Your Pocket Day. They are holding events in bookstores, libraries, parks, schools, work places, blogs, and even their homes. Come share your love of poetry with us.......
My favorite poem was written by that beloved American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He wrote the poem during happier times when the family was living in Craigie House. It was written for his daughters, Alice, Allegra, and Edith.........
My mother knew this poem by heart and she would tell it to us over, and over, along with other poems and stories, while we were growing up. She told it like a story and we loved it. She never told us where she heard it or that it was a famous poem. It wasn't until years later that I found it in a poetry book. I had such a vivid imagination and curiosity as a child. I would ask question, after question, much to my mother's frustration I'm sure. The reason why I love this poem so much is because it reminds me of those very special times I spent with my mother.......
THE CHILDREN'S HOUR
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the days occupations
Known as the Children's Hour
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence,
Yet I know by their merry eyes,
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O're the arms and back of my chair,
If I try to escape, they surround me,
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In the mouse tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, O blue-eyed bandit,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round tower of my heart.
And there I will keep you forever,
Yes, forever in a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder the dust away.
To celebrate Poem In Your Pocket Day I had a small and intimate poetry party. I love poetry parties and we do have them periodically. This party was so much fun that we have decided to make it an annual event......
To keep it simple we went out to dinner and then came back to our house to do our readings. These are some of my poetry books and as you can see I kept to The Poem In Your Pocket theme for my party.........
I made small poetry books and tucked my poem inside.......
We had the most marvelous discussions and read wonderful poems like The Raven, To A Mouse, Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking, and Oh Death Will Find Me. I thought I would share a few more with you here....
THE SKELETON ON GALLOWS HILL
In moonlight circles on gallow's hill,
A skeleton labors with pick axe and shovel,
Digging frantically at the graveside of a lost love lately departed.
Clods of sod and clay he flings at the starry mantle.
Moonlight dancing along the convexity of the skeleton's spade
Is reflected like pale sunlight in a faded mirror.
He unhinges the roof of her tiny cell and stares into her half opened eyes,
But alas, she remains whole.
Many long nights will pass before he can accommodate her being.
Love is long delayed on gallow's hill.
But he will sit patiently at the side of her grave
Hoping the raindrops do their part and force into view
The beautiful bones of her face.
-Paul S. Seifert-
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people are exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies.
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, it's voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won:
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Happy Poem In Your Pocket Day everyone!....
With warmest regards, Carol