Thank you for being a light in my life. I love the music of you, the instant gratification, your rhythms and tales. My first poem, penned at seven years, began like this, 'Thump, thump, thump me, bump, bump, bump me...' It was about the making of a snowman.
My first poetic love was Keats. I memorised his 'To Autumn,'
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom friend of the maturing sun...
I was sixteen when Ms.B helped me to observe the detail of the world and express myself more easily through you. And these days I find you everywhere and in everything and, in being attuned to the poetry of life, I find joy.
Thank you to Keats, to the language of Shakespeare, to Ginsberg and Plath, to Libby Hart's 'This Floating World', to Dylan Thomas, Doctor Seuss...
Blackberrying – by Sylvia Plath
Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
jojobee
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