Archive for October, 2011

An Evening with WBY

Posted in Uncategorized on October 15, 2011 by willard43

I’ve been on a Yeats kick, mostly because I have a paper to write about him, (a critical head, whatever that means), and I couldn’t sleep the other night. I broke my foot last week and the pain wakes me in the middle of the night so I read. Not that Yeats puts me to sleep…far from it. In fact, I’m dazzled like no other at this point and can’t wait to dig into Blake and Shelley as they were his influences. But, like a song that you can’t get out of your head, an earworm, I have a few lines from one of his most quoted works stuck in mine:


Come away, oh human child,

To the waters and the wild

With a faery hand in hand,

For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

(from The Stolen Child, WBY)


So I wrote this in his honor:


I spent the night alone with Yeats,

For slumber would not break,

I wondered softly at his feats,

Before the dawn did wake.


I pondered over young and old,

And why they cannot see.

I questioned how they fight and scold,

And then it came to me.


Through his verse I chanced to glean,

A common thread between us,

And past his meter I have seen,

The phantoms through the fuss.


The heart, the soul, the mind, the man,

Pass on from age to age,

Yet, a kindred flame we all can fan,

Lights our way across the page.


The Blushing Shepherdess to Her Shepherd

Posted in Uncategorized on October 15, 2011 by willard43

(In Response to Christopher Marlowe’s “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love”)

I would come to live with you,

And prove our Love’s treasures true,

Whatever place I surely will,

No matter valley, dale, or hill.


I’ll sit with you upon the rocks,

And see what our union unlocks,

By the shallow river’s flowing,

And to the tune the cardinals sing.


I’ll lie upon your bed of roses,

And strike heart-hastened lover’s poses,

While I don your flowered girdles,

Of roses, posies and doves of turtles.


Bedecked in woolen gown from you,

I’ll ponder not the lamb but ewe,

From whence and which those threads were pulled,

And how you managed these slippers gold.


I’ll proudly wear the ivy belt,

Even if the thorns be felt,

For your pleasures do move me indeed,

I’ll live with you and we’ll plant Love’s seed.


I care not for any silver dish,

Or if on it be meat or fish,

And it matters not on what we dine,

As long as it is yours and mine.


As for the dancing and the song,

I care for yours only as the day is long,

And those mind’s delights of which you speak,

Yours alone does my heart seek.

Autumn’s Ode

Posted in Uncategorized on October 1, 2011 by willard43

I can smell the bonfires
Burning off the heat of summer
Charring the leaves
The chill descends to freeze the ground
And the white ghosts escape us walking up the hill
The sun seems brighter but lasts less long
There is anticipation in the air
A rush to bottle the ends before it’s too late
Autumn is a kiss before death
A lover’s last gift before the end of the affair
It’s ode to sunshine orange and loamy brown
It’s faded passion red and stony gray
Autumn sounds better but is less apropos than fall
Fall it does like a cold, wet coffin lid
Autumn is buxom sweaters, rosy cheeks and rushing gropes
Fall is broken pumpkins and stolen candy
Autumn is game winning triumph
Fall is bench warming boredom
Autumn is the last drop of juice from the final harvest
Fall murders summer and makes winter the accomplice