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At-Home Poetry & Verse


Thank you to everyone who has contributed this week. The next topic will be 'Transportation Through the Ages.' but please feel free to decide your own topic. The deadline for contributions is midnight on Thursday 25 February 2021 with publication here on Saturday 27 February 2021.



The next topic will be 'Transportation Through the Ages.'

The email address is :- [email protected]

Your contribution can be emailed by clicking HERE


Last Week's Contributions



Spring






                Courtesy of Bing.com/images




                                                Daffodils        

 

I wandered lonely as a cloud                               The waves beside them danced, but they

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,                Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;         

 When all at once I saw a crowd,                        A poet could not but be gay

A host, of golden daffodils;                                  In such a jocund company;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,                 I gazed ,and gazed but little thought

Fluttering and dancing In the breeze.                  What wealth the show to me had brought;

 

Continuous as the stars that shine                      For oft, when on my couch I lie

And twinkle on the milky way,                             In vacant or in pensive mood,

They stretched in never-ending line                    They flash upon that inward eye

Along the margin of a bay;                                  Which is the bliss of solitude;

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,                          And then my heart with pleasure fills,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.                And dances with the daffodils.

 

This lovely poem by William Wordsworth was written in 1804 and first published in 1807.   Its' words reflect the language used by his sister, Dorothy, in a journal entry describing a walk with her brother on the shores of Ullswater on 15 April 1802.Here is an extract from that journal entry:

'& at last under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of daffodils along the shore, about the breadth of a country turnpike road.  I never saw daffodils so beautiful they grew among the mossy stones about & about them, some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness & the rest tossed & reeled & danced & seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the Lake, they looked so gay ever glancing ever changing.  This wind blew directly over the lake to them.  

 Shared by (M.G)

 


              Riddle-de-dee                                                      Spring

                                                             

My first is in rag but not in bone                        In tropic climes the seasons blend

My second is in coin and also in loan                Does one begin, another end?

My third is in beer but not in ale                        But here the falling leaves portend

My fourth is in wind but not in gale                    A winter's blast tall trees to bend.

My fifth is in nest up high in a tree                     And darker days and longer nights

The Nation's favourite bird -                              Woolly gloves and woolly tights.    

You must know me!                                           But that will end, and that will bring

Answer next week                                              The annual miracle of Spring.

                                                                           (C.R.).

 One liner alert..........                                                                                

What do you call two birds in love?   Tweethearts!   From www.riddles.nu         

                                                                                      Shared by (A.R)                                                                                                                          





               Courtesy of Shutterstock Stock Photos. Royalty Free



             

                   Ladybird Ladybird

 

          Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home

          the field mouse is gone to her nest

          the daisies have shut up their sleepy red eyes

          and the birds and the bees are at rest

          Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home

          the glow worm is lighting her lamp

          the dew's falling fast, and your fine speckled wings

          will flag with the close clinging damp

          Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home

          the fairy bells tinkle afar

          make haste or they'll catch you and harness you fast

          with a cobweb to Oberon's star.

 

          Ladybird, Ladybird is a traditional nursery rhyme, dating back

         to the 18th century in England  From All Nursery Rhymes Shared by (L.M)

 


                                                             The Lamb

 

                Stanza One                                 Stanza Two

 

       Little Lamb who made thee                               Little Lamb I'll tell thee

 

       Dost thou know who made thee                        Little Lamb I'll tell thee

 

       Gave thee life & bid thee feed.                          He is called by thy name

 

       By the stream & o'er the mead;                         He became a little child:

 

       Gave thee clothing of delight,                            I a child & thou a lamb,

 

       Softest clothing wooly bright;                             We are called by his name.

 

       Gave thee such a tender voice,                         Little Lamb God bless thee.

 

       Making all the vales rejoice!                              Little Lamb God bless thee.

                             

       Little Lamb who made thee

 

       Dost thou know who made thee  

 

This lovely poem by William Blake was included in the Songs of Innocence

published in 1789.  Courtesy of Poem Analysis.           Shared by (L.M)

 

                                         Riddle-de-Ree Corner

 

What bird can lift the heaviest weight?  

If twenty blackbirds are on a fence and you shoot one, how many remain?

What bird can write?

Answers: next week            From www.riddles.nu            Shared by (A.R)

 

 





                          Courtesy Bing.com/Images





                Courtesy of Shutterstock Stock Photos. Royalty free

             

                                The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

 

                                 Extract: 'PROVERBS OF HELL'

 

You were invited last week to give us your one line interpretation of this line from the

William Blake poem named above. 'No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.'

 

Here are the responses we have received and a few ideas from the internet:

   

Use your own belief and ability and you will be able to make strong progress.(J.G)

 

A person can achieve as high as their abilities allow them to. (T.M)

 

The essence of the line is the importance of self-belief – trust your own judgement – it's amazing what you can achieve. (M.G)

.

Be your own person, don't allow yourself to be bullied.(L.M)

 

A person will not become conceited or an 'exploiter of people' if they work to earn their success.

 

A person cannot reach a height they cannot handle if they 'soar with their own wings.'

 

A person will only go so far on their own, they should look for a mentor to show them the ropes.  

 

You need to use the talent of others and their ideas and then ride over them to get success.

 

No one can persevere in absolute isolation.   The above five statements: Courtesy of 'Quora.'

  

                       thank you to everyone who gave us their views



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