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Showing posts with label Mondrian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mondrian. Show all posts

Friday, February 3, 2012

The Best Thing in the World


Each Friday we provide the link to the blog that is hosting a celebration of poetry around the blogosphere. At that site you can find the links to the many other blogs that are posting poems (new and old), discussions of poems, and reviews of poetry books.

Enjoy the festivities!

The host this week is Karissa Knox Sorrell. You can visit her here at The Iris Chronicles.


(Summer Night by Piet Mondrian, 1872-1944, Dutch painter)

This is a good question for contemplation.

THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD

What’s the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain,
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Love, when, so, you’re loved again.
What’s the best thing in the world?
— Something out of it, I think.

~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861), English poet

Monday, September 27, 2010

Birds’ Nests


(Tree by Piet Mondrian, 1872-1944, Dutch painter)

All is revealed.

BIRDS’ NESTS

The summer nests uncovered by autumn wind,
Some torn, others dislodged, all dark,
Everyone sees them: low or high in tree,
Or hedge, or single bush, they hang like a mark.

Since there’s no need of eyes to see them with
I cannot help a little shame
That I missed most, even at eye’s level, till
The leaves blew off and made the seeing no game.

’Tis a light pang. I like to see the nests
Still in their places, now first known,
At home and by far roads. Boys knew them not,
Whatever jays and squirrels may have done.

And most I like the winter nests deep-hid
That leaves and berries fell into:
Once a dormouse dined there on hazel-nuts,
And grass and goose-grass seeds found soil and grew.

~ Edward Thomas (1878-1917), British poet