Poetry guru Katie O’Neil is a Classic Girl wh0 Loves Classic poetry. Ken Gaertner is a poet with an eye for beauty. Enjoy both of these “previews” of summer and the lush time of our year! Do you remember the innocent pursuits we had to even make a “big deal” out of celebrating the seasons and the months? Some spots in Europe still follow these sweet and innocent traditions Spring Blessings, KC
May is such a half summer, half cold windy month — this poem contains both moods. of the big May poems is the Tennyson’s ‘The May Queen’:
You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear; To-morrow âll be the happiest time of all the glad new-year, Of all the glad new-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day; For I âm to be Queen o the May, mother, I âm to be Queen o the May.
There âs many a black, black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine; There âs Margaret and Mary, there âs Kate and Caroline; But none so fair as little Alice in all the land, they say: So I âm to be Queen o the May, mother, I am to be Queen o the May.
I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake, If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break; But I must gather knots of flowers and buds, and garlands gay; For I âm to be Queen o the May, mother, I âm to be Queen o the May.
There âs many a black, black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine; There âs Margaret and Mary, there âs Kate and Caroline; But none so fair as little Alice in all the land, they say: So I âm to be Queen o the May, mother, I âm to be Queen o’ the May.
I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake, If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break; But I must gather knots of flowers and buds, and garlands gay; For I âm to be Queen o the May, mother, I âm to be Queen o the May.
LYRICAL
The bluejay startled me
landing so close
as I was reading Basho on the porch
my wife quickly turned my head
as suddenly she was before me dressed in green wool
that surrounded her beauty
as grass embraces the regality
of the sunrise.
How can the mystery
which you carry so gracefully
from day to day
escape the mundane
that afflicts so much of the world?
Chocolatie your exotic cat stares up at you
as if he too is hypnotized by your beauty.
You reach down
and stroke his head
and he turns away
sulking
because you are betraying him by leaving.
How indulgent your smile
which has lit up my soul
in my darkest moment.
With the grace of an elk
as it turns its neck gracefully
to gaze at a sparkling pond
you slowly turn,
opening the door,
gazing for a moment,
and call “It’s beautiful out”
in a tone so lyrical
it seems as though
the bluejay
with its song has returned.
While time now flows
at its languid pace
our house will rest and wait,
it’s silence the language
of longing.
Ken Gaertner
What a wonderful way to end my evening. Thank you!
What beautiful verses – lifting the spirit!