General Chat

This is my number one favvourite Poem , well it is this week


What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

What is your favourite??

One of my favourite poems was a sonnet by Wordsworth called
Upon Westminster Bridge
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This city now doth like a garment wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships,towers, domes, theatres,and temple lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

I won't bore anyone with the rest, but because I had an English teacher who described why the poet wrote these words I found I understood poetry far better than reading a book.Imagine looking at fields now from Westminster Bridge.
My favourites are so varied ranging from John Masefield's "Sea Fever" to "Albert and the Lion", but if anyone has the words to a poem about an 'Isabel who met an enormous bear' I should appreciate hearing it again because I remember it making me laugh as a child. -jle

Adventures Of Isabel

Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn't care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was ravenous,
The bear's big mouth was cruel and cavernous.
The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you,
How do, Isabel, now I'll eat you!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry.
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She washed her hands and she straightened her hair up,
Then Isabel quietly ate the bear up.
Once in a night as black as pitch
Isabel met a wicked old witch.
the witch's face was cross and wrinkled,
The witch's gums with teeth were sprinkled.
Ho, ho, Isabel! the old witch crowed,
I'll turn you into an ugly toad!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry,
She showed no rage and she showed no rancor,
But she turned the witch into milk and drank her.
Isabel met a hideous giant,
Isabel continued self reliant.
The giant was hairy, the giant was horrid,
He had one eye in the middle of his forhead.
Good morning, Isabel, the giant said,
I'll grind your bones to make my bread.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She nibled the zwieback that she always fed off,
And when it was gone, she cut the giant's head off.
Isabel met a troublesome doctor,
He punched and he poked till he really shocked her.
The doctor's talk was of coughs and chills
And the doctor's satchel bulged with pills.
The doctor said unto Isabel,
Swallow this, it will make you well.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She took those pills from the pill concocter,
And Isabel calmly cured the doctor.

Ogden Nash

Now isn't that interesting two replies and two very different poems and I like both equally as well! I must look for some more Ogden Ash
I have a lovely book of sonnets at Home Ican't wait to be able to read my poetry books again.
I wonder what the next wil be

The Life that I have
Is all that I have,
And the life that I have is yours.

The love that I have
of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death shall be but a pause

For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours
And yours.

Although this is rather sombre, it is a poem that I have always loved.

Oh Nigglynellie

I thought of posting this wonderfuly poignant poem and I always end up crying when I read this and it has happened again, when I die I would like this to be read by anyone who comes to my funeral.

I must finish packing but it is taking me all day...how much "stuff" can one person gather in just 16 months!! so because it is annoying me being so tired all the time I keep coming on here and bang goes another half an hour!!

choccy - I have been busy helping a friend with their family tree this afternoon and I decided to take a look before logging off. Thank you so much for the poem. It is still making me smile fifty years later!. I could only remember some of the first few lines with a few dah di dahs. jle

Janet
maybe tomorrow you will be able to add another favourite poem.
I was not at all sure that anyone would take any notice when I put the first post up so I am delighted that we have had some respones. I wil put an other poem on soon.

I can't remember who wrote this but I think it is beautiful I will have to google and see who wrote it unless some one on here knows?

If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.

Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.

For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?.

Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I live
And life in me is what you give.

Yes it was christopher ???

Last posting of the day!!! I must go and get some sleep, lots to do tommorow as I need to buy some big boxes which I can put much of my things in and keep in the car to drive back to Spain. Oh I can't wait.
Hope you al remeber this my sister andI learnt this one at Primary School and NO i am not going to say how many years ago that was.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Wordsworth


night night

What lovely poems 'SpanishEyes' epecially the first one, I love poetrry and will post another one later to see what you all think?!

There is a program on radio 4 I think, quite late at night when poetry is read. The choice comes from listeners who have favourites or like me earlier on, asking for help in resurrecting a poem from years ago. Its not just the poems I like but the stories of how they came to be.

I remember being told about Robert Louis Stevenson being a sickly child who spent a lot of time in bed which inspired him to write about the 'Land of Counterpane'....I guess most children nowadays wouldn't even know what a counterpane was. ..........I might just seek it out ...jle

Janet,

Thank you for reminding me of 'The Land of Counterpane' - brings back happy memories of school days.

There are many RLS on http://www.lone-star.net/mall/literature/rls/childs-garden-of-verses.htm

I was so pleased to find the Railway Carriage poem - another favourite.

Elisabeth

From a Railway Carriage
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!

Just a little story about learning a poem many years ago. The teacher was missing so the headmistress, a rotund battleaxe looking woman took over the class and told us to choose a poem and learn it..... One way of looking after a class of 50.

Our desks were the double type so each 'double'had to learn the same poem. We chose a 4x4 lined verse as it looked the shortest. I can't remember what the poem was about but the last word was 'chemise'. As we had never seen the word as 10 year olds we decided the nearest word was 'chemist' so thats what we said.

Towards the end of the lesson the headmistress chose various people to stand up and recite, and horror of horrors she chose my friend, thankfully not me. My friend duly recited it all until she got to this last word which she went on to pronounce as Chemist. The headmistress screamed 'what!!?' so we both said apologetically that we didn't know how to pronounce chemise.

In our endeavour to learn the poem we hadn't read what it was about. It turns out that the author was saying how awful it would be to be left in the garden with no clothes...and not even a chemise (vest).I presume somewhere there would be the word 'freeze' to rhyme with chemise but as children we didn't understand.

.....perhaps the headmistress may have thought afterwards that learning poetry wasn't such a good idea.....but I never forgot chemise-jle

elisabeth- thank you for putting From a railway carriage. I can't believe how much I have remember about poetry but this poem was always recited in the rhythm of the train going clackity clack on the rails.-jle

Hi Bridget and All
I love poetry too and can remember having to learn it 'off by heart'. Robert Louis Stevenson being one of my favourites poets.

One of the first I ever learnt was The Cow from the Child's Garden of Verses book,which i took to bed every night lol


The friendly cow all red and white,
I love with all my heart:
She gives me cream with all her might,
To eat with apple-tart.

She wanders lowing here and there,
And yet she cannot stray,
All in the pleasant open air,
The pleasant light of day;

And blown by all the winds that pass
And wet with all the showers,
She walks among the meadow grass
And eats the meadow flowers

Mau x

I am so delighted that this thread is having so much attention. I thought that I might get one or two replies but people seem to be having a good time remembering there favourite. I have to do my packing today and realised just how much i have gathered so having to be fairly ruthless. I went to the supermarket and bought some compression bags and so far so good,
I ano am wondering of there are any poems about moving house?? there is todays challenge.
Keep writing it is so uplifting

Home is the place your heart resides
Home is the place that you decide
Home is the womb that holds the soul
Home is the place where one is whole

Home is the glow you hold in your eye
Home is the emotion that makes you cry
Home is safe and a place of peace
Home is where all strivings cease

Home is protective against the others
Home is full of sisters and brothers
Home is where you find your rest
Home is where you feel your best

Home is a memory that follows your being
Home is a dream for those agreeing
Home is the place where reserves fall
Home is the place you yearn to call

Home is where the family meets
Home is a place of restful retreats
Home is the place you know you’ll be heard
Home is the pace where nothing blurs

Home is all these wonderful things
Home is the place you develop wings
Home is the place that you’ll find one day
Home is the place where your heart will stay

Aisha Patterson

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blessed by sons of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven


I remember learning this at school, but I had to look it uo because I could not remeber verse 3 Old age perhaps?

I am sure that I Know a few poems about growing old, do you all remember or partly remember poetry learnt at school, have yu ever written poetry?