Poetry

I would have loved to write about my love for Pooh, Paper, Pens and Pancakes, but if there is one love standing out for today, and that is my love for Poetry.

I have been a poet ever since I could write. My first publication was at nine years old, in the school newspaper. One of my biggest regrets is that I never kept my old childhood poems. I tossed them in my 20’s because they were bad, but I would have loved to see how I have grown as a poet. My hard disk is filled with poems, and I love to read them.

This is one of my favorites, by Tennyson

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
O well for the fisherman’s boy,
That he shouts for his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad,
that he sings in his boat on the bay!
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
Break, break, break
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.

—-

Still makes me shiver when I read this. It also shows what poems should do: move you.

Big announcement!

Next week Abandoned Footsteps, my first ever self published miniature poetry chapbook will be put on sale. The first printing is 50, all hand made by yours truly. Each 5 will have a different front color and each will be signed and numbered. There’s also custom ink art in every little book.

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