Posted on 01/12/2014 6:41:22 PM PST by not2be4gotten.com
I remember poetry night, at the kitchen table, every Wednesday.
When I was a kid, I hated "poetry night" when we had supper together.
My mom made us read poems, every Wednesday night.
It was so uncool.
That was 30 years ago and I was in my teens.
And now, I ask you to consider the following:
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost...
I still don't know what the "crown of stars" means.
Dang! CROWD of stars.
Standing in the woods, with a heavy snow falling, is just such a peaceful place
Many times I experience that exact comforting stillness. When in a northern climate, I put off shoveling snow until midnight. The surrounding enveloping stillness, the fresh glistening snow, inhaling full breaths of that cold exhilarating frigid air...all just energizes, yet calms my soul.
We had to memorize those verses. Where I finished school, you bought your own books. Many of the used books had that section cut out as the former students using the book took them out to carry home in their pocket and memorize the verse.
My book was used and that was missing, so I found someone else’s book and hand wrote those verses, then had a girl who was taking typing class, type it for me.
“...silent balls of death” is what she typed.
By now I prefer -
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows.
What are those blue remembered hills?
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content -
I see it shining plain.
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
AE Housman A Shopshire Lad.....
Dark, dreary words, in a land of ice and snow,
Where cold is king, and measured ‘in below’,
Pot-belly stoves blaze, not wnough heat fer two,
and all the while lurks, Dangerous Dan McGrew!
IMHO....
I like your interpretation.
I can do that. Kipling is a favorite. I've been reading my grandkids some of his stories for kids.
/johnny
>> I think poetery is repulsive!
Aarg, the futile make of pottery,
the devil’s wile, his poetry,
my callous hands cannot take,
the gob and his foolish poetery.
Nice poetry thread. Thanks for posting.
“I had to recite that poem in first grade in 1967. I played hell learning every line in that poem but I got it done. I still remember the words after all these years. Thanks for the reminder.”
For me it was freshman year of high school, Miss Colavita’s English class (1974). Ask my kids, I can still recite it today. Also, “Friends, Romans, countrymen lend me your ears....”
Robert W. Service is another one that would make a great memmorization project. I went to school with a kid who could recite all of Service’s poems by heart. He used to stand on a platform on the side of the HS steps (after evening club meetings) and regale all of us with his skill.
You might enlist a few willing to further the uncool.
AND-—
“When called by a panther,
don’t anther!”
Ogden Nash
My wife found an envelope of my high-school ramblings and “poetry”. She asked why I never wrote her a love letter with a poem in it.
The next morning I left her a note:
“Rose’s are red,
daisies are yellow,
I love you more,
than mixed-fruit Jello.”
She hasn’t asked for any more poetry.
There is a set of Frost poems arranged for chorus by Randall Thompson. I’ve sung them many times and always enjoyed them. Although the poems certainly stand on their own, Thompson added another dimension which, for me, enhanced the meaning of each poem. Frost heard them and approved.
The poems set to music were:
1. Frostiana - The Road Not Taken
2. Frostiana - The Pasture
3. Frostiana - Come In
4. Frostiana - The Telephone
5. Frostiana - A Girl’s Garden
6. Frostiana - Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
7. Frostiana - Choose Something Like A Star
More info:
In 1958, Randall Thompson was commissioned to compose a piece celebrating the 200th anniversary of the incorporation of the town of Amherst, Massachusetts. The townspeople suggested that Thompson set a poem by Robert Frost, the quintessential New England poet who had lived for a time in Amherst. Thompson, a friend of Frost’s, agreed but rejected the town’s choice of poem, The Gift Outright. Instead, he chose to compose a suite of seven poems, and titled it Frostiana. Thompson subtitled the suite Seven Country Songs, and the poems he selected certainly provide a nostalgic glimpse of rural New England life. A common thread unites the poems, emphasizing the importance of the many small choices we are called to make throughout life. Through his sensitive settings of Frost’s texts, Thompson gently counsels us to take the road less traveled, to keep our promises before we sleep, to stay our minds upon something like a star. Thompson himself conducted the premiere at the Bicentennial Commemoration on October 18, 1959. The Bicentennial Chorus, comprised of singers from throughout the township, was accompanied on the piano, as Thompson didn’t orchestrate the work until 1965. Robert Frost attended, and was so delighted that at the conclusion of the performance, he rose to his feet and shouted, “Sing that again!”
Recording found at:
http://www.amazon.com/Frostiana-Exultate-Chamber-Choir-Orchestra/dp/B0006ZP2WK
What is it about standing in the dark, when it is snowing quietly? You can actually hear the snow fall, and it is such a peaceful sound, and the whole feeling is one of peace.
A couple of my favs from “ A Child’s Garden of Verses”’ are “My Shadow”, and “The Swing”. So simple, yet so endearing.
My mom made us read poems, every Wednesday night.
When I was a wee lad, my mother dragged my pathetic little self to see some old white-haired guy read poetry.
I just wish I’d been old enough to know who Frost was and to appreciate what Mom did for me.
:wq
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