Thursday, January 14, 2010

Okay, two Milly Jourdain poems today. Poem #1 shows why she drives me nuts. Poem #2 shows why I'm doing this copying project. Try to write a better poem than Poem #2. You could, but it would be hard.

A Dream Journey

Milly Jourdain

The rain is falling cold and grey,
But spring is in the air;
And thinking of a warmer land
I wish that I were there.

I see around me in the grass,
Like stars of tender blue,
The little crocus growing wild
And making all things new.

I lie upon a sun-warmed hill
And thundering hear the waves below,
A breath from hidden violets
Comes when the wind doth blow.

Anemones with coloured heads
And hidden deep-black eyes
Are growing near the glimpse of sea,
Whose slow noise never dies.

At last I wake in evening light
And hear the sky-larks sing
Above the fields all glistening-wet
And green with early spring.

"The Floods Are Risen . . . "

Milly Jourdain

The great white sea has flooded all the land,
And little waves are blown against the path
With tiny sounds like dry and restless throbs:
A white-sailed boat skims like a frightened moth
Into the dusk: the grey clouds grow darker
And dim the yellow light; we turn and leave
The cold wind blowing on the ruffled sea.

A poem like this second one leaves me thinking: what could she have been, this writer, if the cards had been stacked otherwise? Oh, that boat skimming like a frightened moth. I see it in my dreams.

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