Tuesday, November 11, 2008

November 11, 2008

Most of my life I have been trying to wrap myself around understanding poetry. My first book was a second edition "A Child's Garden of Verses" by Robert Louis Stevenson. Prior to my ownership both my mother and her father had scribbled with crayon and wore the pages thin.

Today thanks to the magic of podcasts I heard a simple wonderful poem entitled "November" by Thomas Hood, written in 1844

No sun - no moon!

No morn - no noon

No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day.

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease.

No comfortable feel in any member

No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bee.

No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds!


Peace Always