It's Me It's Me, A Blogwright

I just read this poem -- it is enchanting and dreamlike, despite it's theme being that mankind is going into extinction or slowly destroying itself -- or in the poem, already gone. For an indepth analysis, see Wiki. Sara won the first Nobel Prize for Poetry, being a woman at that!!!

Ray Bradbury used this poem to write a short story of the same title. I am going to reread that next. This story is one of the best-known and many said is the best-known fable in scifi. You can read it at Wiki.


Following, the POEM, by Sara Teasdale:

"There Will Come Soft Rains"

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

Sara Teasdale

Sprogger wrote a post that inspired me to write this poem about his post and lovely photo. Perhaps it will warm you up, if you are in a cold area of the world, like me!

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My Christmas Poem to YOU

Let me be one of the first to say
on this December 25, 2008, new day
Merry Christmas to all
from the big to the small
may joy fill your coffers
and love overbrim with kisses, too, for
you and your loved ones
while we all are remembering the Blessed Son

Eliane

Appearing suddenly near
my ghostly friend arrives here
surrounding me with a comforting aire
sending out beautiful vibes everywhere
such a loving reuniting celebration
bringing me to the realization
life is more than here and now
mysteries can still wow

Definitions

It bothers me that some fine words
can simply become pejorative
language changes can be so absurd
instead of being clear and restorative
when one word can mean its own definitions' opposite
makes understanding quite difficult
living language is very equisite
although sometimes causes my brain to summersault.

Eliane