Saturday, February 10, 2007

Some More of My favourite Poetry

Hello everybody, I am going to be very busy this coming fortnight as I am working Monday to Friday each week of this roster. I will try, to keep up my visiting and posting any time I can find a spare minute. Hope every one is OK out here in blogger land. I have posted some more of my favourite poetry hope you like it.



The Listeners

“Is there anybody there?” said the traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grass
Of the forest’s ferny floor;

And a bird flew out of the turret,
Above the traveler’s head;
And he smote on the door a second time,
“Is there anybody there?” he said.

But no one descended to the traveler;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill,
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.

But only a host of phantom listeners,
That dwelt in the lone house then,
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight,
To that voice from the world of men;

Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stairs
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely travelers call.

And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
‘Neath the starred and leafy sky.

For he suddenly smote on the door,
Even louder, and lifted his head……
“Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word he said,” he said.

Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house,
From the one man left awake;

Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Walter de la Mare


Cargoes


QUINQUIREME of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny
Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of
Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.



John Masefield




Mrs Gold bloom is playing in the shallows of Hamilton Island with her four year old grandson Aaron on a beautiful sunny day. Suddenly the sky darkens and it starts raining, there’s a clap of thunder, a bolt of lightening and a huge wave crashes onto the shore sweeping Aaron out to sea. With dismay, she looks down at the spot where Aaron used to be then looks up into the heaven and wails, “You call yourself a merciful God? I am an eighty year old woman, I have lived through two world wars, and all sorts of tragedy and you choose to take the apple of my eye, my only grandson, Aaron… You call yourself a merciful God?”

With that there is another clap of thunder, another bolt of lightening and yet another wave crashes onto the beach depositing young Aaron unharmed and laughing, playing with his bucket and spade as if nothing had happened.

Mrs Goldbloom looks down at her grandson, looks up to the sky says to God, “He had a hat.”




13 comments:

Jim said...

That Peter is a blessing to you isn't he! I wish he were close enough to help me sometimes. I know he would, he seems so kind-hearted.
I hope you stay all well for a long time and that your ISP does also.

My post is up now, you just missed it.

BTW, your poem, The Listener, reminds me of one I learned in grade school, Abu Ben Adam.
http://swapnav_hawaldar.tripod.com/mails/abuben.html
..

Merle said...

Hi Margaret ~~ Thanks for the poetry and the very funny joke. I liked
The Listeners best.
Sorry you have a full work load, be sure to get enough rest.
Thanks for the visits, sorry I was so full of woe the other day. Will get
eerything fixed soon, I hope. Glad you liked Billy and the little fawn. It was a nice story. Take care, my friend, Love, Merle.

DellaB said...

"I was very sick and had a very painful back that would not allow me to even sit at the computer."

"I am going to be very busy this coming fortnight as I am working Monday to Friday..."

Margaret ... are you sure you are taking care? Doesn't look too much like it from here...

:-}
Della
p.s. THANK YOU for the poems, very very lovely, and the laugh, very very funny

Peter said...

Hi Margaret, nice to see you posting, not so good the workload you are under, there is a limit to just how much you can do you know!!

Gwen said...

Hi Margaret..
thanks for the visit,glad you are back stay well xx

JunieRose2005 said...

Hi Margaret,

I enjoyed the poems very much.

...but that last joke really got me! haha


Take care,

Junie

Leann said...

thanks for the poems and the joke.good to see you back up and bloging.God bless you.

HORIZON said...

Glad you decided to stay on in blogland Margaret. l know that for me this past month of January had been rough and l almost gave up blogging too.
We must also have the same taste in poetry because l really like the two that you posted today. Not even 2 weeks ago l was reading out 'The Listeners' to G. :) Wonderful.
Hugs from Scotland dear friend x
ps- as for the joke- ta- some people are never satisfied!

Lee said...

Thanks for the poems, Margaret...and thanks for the smiles. You take care of yourself...watch that back and don't go exhausting yourself!! That's an order! ;)

Jeanette said...

Hi Margaret Good to see you posting again loved your poems and joke. Take care Watch that back dont over do it. Jan

Meow said...

Hi Margaret, hope you aren't overdoing it, and are feeling OK now. Can't be too careful with a bad back.
Take care, Meow

Jim said...

Hi Margaret -- Happy Valentines Day! ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Rhea said...

Gosh, I love you Australians. You say things like 'fortnight'.