Poetry and Potpourri .... October 6-7, 2003

October 6, 2003 | JustAmy, St.Louie1 and Mama_Bear

[JustAmy]

.................................................................

The Poetry Branch has been in limbo since the prior hostess left FreeRepublic April 15th 2003. We've since learned that said hostess has lost her posting privilege. That being the case, and Jim Robinson having given his ok, I wanted to renew the thread.

FreeRepublic is blessed with many fine poets, and we look forward to seeing their poems posted on FR once again. There were many non-poet FReepers who visited the Poetry Branch for the camaraderie; we hope they will return.

I would like to invite everyone to visit and relax at Poetry and Potpourri. Hopefully you will renew old acquaintances for chatting, sharing jokes, telling stories, posting cartoons, etc. Everyone needs a place to escape from the everyday news, make Poetry and Potpourri that place.

...................

The Belvedere's Guardian Wolf ~
the always charming, lovable, huggable,
LouieWolf.

[JustAmy]

To be added to or deleted from my ping list, please notify me via FreepMail.

Prior Threads:
September 22, 2003
September 24, 2003
September 26, 2003
September 27 - 28, 2003
September 29 - 30, 2003
October 1-2, 2003
October 3-4-5, 2003

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[JustAmy]

Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds,
Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks,
My busy heart who shudders as she talks
Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.

Shut, too, in a tower of words, I mark
On the horizon walking like the trees
The wordy shapes of women, and the rows
Of the star-gestured children in the park.
Some let me make you of the vowelled beeches,
Some of the oaken voices, from the roots
Of many a thorny shire tell you notes,
Some let me make you of the water's speeches.

Behind a post of ferns the wagging clock
Tells me the hour's word, the neural meaning
Flies on the shafted disk, declaims the morning
And tells the windy weather in the cock.
Some let me make you of the meadow's signs;
The signal grass that tells me all I know
Breaks with the wormy winter through the eye.
Some let me tell you of the raven's sins.

Especially when the October wind
(Some let me make you of autumnal spells,
The spider-tongued, and the loud hill of Wales)
With fists of turnips punishes the land,
Some let me make of you the heartless words.
The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry
Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury.
By the sea's side hear the dark-vowelled birds.

-- Dylan Thomas

[JustAmy]

On Christopher Columbus' Ship

If I had been a tiny mouse
on Christoper Columbus' ship,
I would have sailed across the sea
on a very dangerous trip.
I would have heard the thunder boom
and seen the scary lightning flash.
I would have felt each giant wave
give tiny me a giant splash.
If I had been his small wet pet
in Christopher Columbus' hand.
I would have reached America
the beautiful and dry new land.

-Sandra Liatsos

[dixie sass]

Morning everyone! Getting ready for the FReep tomorrow! Er, I mean today!

[JustAmy]

A blonde goes into work one morning crying her eyes out. Her boss, concerned about his employee's well being, asks sympathetically, "What's the matter?"

The blonde replies, "Early this morning I got a phone call saying that my mother had passed away."

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Why don't you go home for the day... we aren't terribly busy. Just take the day off to relax and rest."

The blonde very calmly explains, "No, I'd be better off here. I need to keep my mind off it and I have the best chance of doing that here."

The boss agrees and allows the blonde to work as usual. "If you need anything, just let me know," he says.

A few hours pass and the boss decides to check on the blonde. He looks out over his office and sees the blonde crying hysterically. He rushes out to her, and asks, "Are you going to be okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," replies the blonde, "I just got a call from my sister, and she said that HER mom died too!"

[JustAmy]

Hey ....Ya think you're confused, I'm posting this Sunday night and telling everyone it's Monday. Geeze.

A great Monday Morning to you!!

[Mama_Bear]

So sorry, Amy, that I have not been able to spend any time here lately. (I'm sure people are wondering why on earth my name is posted at the top of the thread, since I am never here, LOL). I will try to do better. :-)

Here's a pretty poem for your pretty thread.

To A Butterfly (second) by William Wordsworth

I'VE watched you now a full half-hour;
Self-poised upon that yellow flower
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!--not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!

This plot of orchard-ground is ours;
My trees they are, my Sister's flowers;
Here rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.

Written in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere.

[MeekOneGOP]

Mornin', everybody ! Happy Monday !

Have a cup while you FReep !

[The Mayor]

[Victoria Delsoul]

Morning everyone! Have a great day all.

See you later.

A Lover's Complaint

A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh-
Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours, observed as they flew-
Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;
And, privileged by age, desires to know
In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.
So slides he down upon his grained bat,
And comely-distant sits he by her side;
When he again desires her, being sat,
Her grievance with his hearing to divide:
If that from him there may be aught applied
Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
'Tis promis'd in the charity of age.

'Father,' she says, 'though in me you behold
The injury of many a blasting hour,
Let it not tell your judgment I am old;
Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power:
I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
Fresh to myself, if I had self-applied
Love to myself and to no love beside.

'But woe is me! too early I attended
A youthful suit, it was to gain my grace,
Of one by nature's outwards so commended,
That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face.
Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place;
And when in his fair parts she did abide,
She was new lodg'd and newly deified.
'His browny locks did hang in crooked curls,
And every light occasion of the wind
Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
For on his visage was in little drawn
What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.

[Temple Owl]

A good crisp autumn morning to all you poetry lovers.

[Pippin]

GOOD MORNING VICTORIA!

[Calpernia]

Good Morning to Potpourri!

[JustAmy]

Thank you for that pretty poem and the pretty butterfly!

"I'm sure people are wondering why on earth my name is posted at the top of the thread"

Everyone can wonder no more.



Thank you for the design and artistic layout of this thread.
This thread would not have been re-opened if not for you and your help!
But ..... I look forward to your visits whenever you find time to stop by!

[JustAmy]

Good Morning, Meekie!!



That coffee is a welcome sight this cool October morning.

[JustAmy]

Thank you for bringing your beautiful china again this morning.



Coffee is really appreciated this beautiful, chilly fall morning.

[daisyscarlett]

Congratulations on your new thread. It is delightful.

I am not a poet and do know it, lol, but I may be able to come up with some potpourri from time to time.

May I request that you run your delightful "Dump Davis" graphic sometime between now and tomorrow?

Hi to Shaggy.

[JustAmy]

Seasons
By Mary T. Hoffman
October 13, 1982

Don’t you love the seasons,
The change in countryside?
As though we needed reasons
To pause and go outside.
To view with awe and wonder
The everlasting scene,
To rest from work and ponder
What all of this can mean?
Is budding branch of spring
Or glistening drop of dew
A means that God may use to bring
Belief in Him to you?
His are the summer’s radiant flower
And autumn’s rich display.
Through winter gale He shows His power
To lead us in His way.


Good Morning, Victoria ..... I always look forward to your poem and the picture you choose. Thank you.

[JustAmy]

Good morning ....
((((( Pippin )))))
and
((((( Calpernia )))))