Friday, February 17, 2017

Sweet dreams of warmth and light

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.
~Andrew Wyeth


Two seasonal (for my part of the world) poems today, plus a bonus.


Mockingbird by Carolyn

excerpt from Lament of a Mocking-Bird
by Frances Anne Kemble

What didst thou sing of, O thou wing√ęd voice?
Dark, bronze-leaved oaks, with silver mosses crowned,
Where thy free kindred live, love, and rejoice,
With wreaths of golden jasmine curtained round.

These didst thou sing of, spirit of delight!
From thy own radiant sky, thou quivering spark!
These thy sweet southern dreams of warmth and light,
Through the grim northern winter drear and dark.

***********

The Wind, the Sun And the Moon
by Anne Stevenson

For weeks the wind has been talking to us,
Swearing, imploring, singing like a person.
Not a person, more the noise a being might make
Searching for a body and a name. The sun
In its polished aurora rises late, then dazzles
Our eyes and days, pacing a bronze horizon
To a mauve bed in the sea. Light kindles the hills,
Though in the long shadow of Moelfre
Winter won't unshackle the dead house by the marsh.

Putting these words on paper after sunset
Alters the length and asperity of night.
By the fire, when the wind pauses, little is said.
Every phrase we unfold stands upright. Outside,
The visible cold, the therapy of moonlight.

***********

Here's a bonus (non-seasonal) poem by Anne Stevenson:

On Going Deaf

I've lost a sense. Why should I care?
Searching myself, I find a spare.
I keep that sixth sense in repair,
And set it deftly, like a snare.

************

Check It Out has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Jone!

22 comments:

Ruth said...

I'm sending you "sweet southern dreams of warmth and light" from my tropical home! Have a great Poetry Friday!

Molly Hogan said...

The Andrew Wyeth quote is wonderful! Thanks so much for sharing it. I also enjoyed the poems, especially these lines from Anne Stevenson's --"The sun
In its polished aurora rises late, then dazzles
Our eyes and days, pacing a bronze horizon
To a mauve bed in the sea."
Fabulous!

Linda B said...

All the winter we are supposed to be having, but not yet, sad to say. I like my winter where it should be, but am afraid in may come in spring! It was 75 here yesterday. I love the poem by Anne Stevenson. that opening places us in the mood: "For weeks the wind has been talking to us". We don't have mockingbirds here, but I loved them when growing up in Missouri. They are special birds. Thanks, Tabatha.

jama said...

Strange winter it's been -- the wind spoke last week, but overall things have been unseasonal. Thanks for the poems and great Wyeth quote!

Doraine Bennett said...

The bone structure of winter is such a beautiful image. I love the idea that the whole story doesn't show. Wishing you spring!

Bridget Magee said...

Love all three of these poems, Tabatha! Here in the desert I can relate to the lines: 'For weeks the wind has been talking to us,
Swearing, imploring, singing like a person.' =)

Jane @ www.raincitylibrarian.ca said...

My mother has lost her hearing in one ear, I shall have to send her that poem on deafness!

I'm not one for winter, oh how I long for spring, and an end to the grey and the rain and the sludge! ;-)

Kiesha Shepard said...

Great poems to share! Those mockingbirds truly do lament, don't they? Thank you for sharing these!

Jone MacCulloch said...

"For weeks the wind has been talking to us,
Swearing, imploring, singing like a person."

This was my daughter's house with the wind on Monday.

Linda said...

It hasn't felt much like winter this year. I love the Wyeth quote. These poems are new to me so I especially enjoyed finding them here. : )

Mitchell Linda said...

I'm a little obsessed with found poetry this week. I love how these lines come together. They don't really make sense. But, beautiful words in this weeks sharing. Thank you, Tabatha!

Bone structure of the landscape
Winter, won’t unshackle the dead
lost a sense
a snare

Brenda Harsham said...

I fear this is Canada to our US: "Where thy free kindred live, love, and rejoice". LOL Great poetry. Especially the last incisive one.

Carol Varsalona said...

Tabatha, winter is a strange mix this year from warmth to cold and bitterness. "For weeks the wind has been talking to us, Swearing, imploring, singing like a person, " struck a cord for me. I heard it howling for nights like a wolf in the night. I wondered what it wanted other than to wake me from sleep. Thanks for sharing all.

Irene Latham said...

"Every phrase we unfold stands upright." What a rich, beautiful line! Thank you, Tabatha. xo

Mary Lee said...

I, too, love the Wyeth quote. The starkness of the landscape is just about the only way to know it's been winter. The temperatures have been totally WACKO.

Tara Smith said...

I will be living in the warmth of these lines:These thy sweet southern dreams of warmth and light,
Through the grim northern winter drear and dark.
Thanks for sharing another set of lovely poems, Tabatha.

Diane Mayr said...

Putting these words on paper after sunset
Alters the length and asperity of night.


These lines spoke to me, plus, I learned a new word--asperity!

Robyn Hood Black said...

(Okay - if Diane had to look up asperity, I don't feel quite so badly at having to look it up!)
Sending some dreamy southern warmth your way, Tabatha - we've hardly had any winter at all this year on the coast. Though we always have LOTS of mockingbirds, which I've conversed with since I was a little girl...;0)

Carol said...

Reading these makes me remember how much I don't like the cold and wind and dark of winter. We are having a premature spring- in the 60's and 70's, and today I saw crocuses coming up. Pretty sure we have some more winter ahead! Stay warm!

michelle kogan said...

Thanks for your seasonal poem postings Tabatha! I especially liked Frances Anne Kemble's excerpt from "Lament of a Mocking-Bird, and the closing line here " Through the grim northern winter drear and dark."

Sally Murphy said...

A lovely trio, thanks Tabatha. this ine made me tingle: 'Every phrase we unfold stands upright"

Michelle Heidenrich Barnes said...

The imagery in that Stevenson poem is something to strive for! Breathtaking. And speaking of breathtaking... meant to tell you, that's the word my dad used to describe your personified feeling poem earlier this month. :)