An Ode

Back in March, my son wrote a poem for his freshman English class. It was a summary, in verse, of Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. You can read it here.

Last week, he wrote another poem for English class. The assignment this time was to write an ode. I would have predicted an ode to dogs, or video games, or ice cream, but instead, he wrote an ode to odes. His English teacher thought he did a very good job. I think so, too.

An Ode to Odes

Oh, how I love the odes!

Blessings you bring to all you speak of.

Oh, how you tickle the senses!

In your words I hear glorification

To that of which you speak.

An ode to popsicles, a sweet

Taste to my tongue.

An ode to the viola, a

Lullaby to my ears.

An ode to red hair, long, flowing

And beautiful to my eyes.

An ode to water, washing past

My fingers.

An ode to spices, a wonderful

Aroma from the Caribbean.

Odes, odes, never ending odes,

Thousands, millions, infinite words

Brought to life by the writer's quill.

Wonders you bring, eternal words, like

Eagles that soar full of that wonder.

An ode to odes.

By Evan Magness

So Sing the Mockingbirds

Northern Mockingbird/Wikimedia Commons

My son wrote this poem for his English class. The assignment was to write a summary, in verse, of To Kill a Mockingbird. He also set it to music. The English teacher liked it so much he put it on the test.

So Sing the Mockingbirds

by Evan Magness

In Maycomb's nest live many flocks;

Hawks, Blue Jays, Robins, Finches too;

And many more, make here their nest;

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

Finches, they say, fly from their ways;

Hatchlings, they say, migrate today;

'Tis not to be a Finch they say;

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

The Mockingbird, He do they mock;

But leave them gifts by tree he does;

And lure him from his nest they try;

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

The chick they say, must learn this night;

Just how to live her life just right;

Or fall the pit of shame tonight;

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

The Robin calls to Finch for aid;

Fly to his aid, the Father does;

Oppressed by Hawks are they this day;

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

Opposed by Hawks, Blue Jays and Wrens;

And Family calls, "Shame us you do!"

"His debt must pay, but still you stand."

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

The father weak, the children think;

His only skills, in pen and ink;

He cannot save the Robin, he;

For weak is he, and frail is he.

Yet from the hound he saves his nest;

His gunmanship, by this he's blessed;

Weak be he not, hound dog he's caught;

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

Against these winds, the birds still fly;

Against the Hawks, their heads held high;

The Robin save from death, they try;

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

So sing the Mockingbirds this morn.

"Fiddler Jones"

"Fiddler Jones" by Edgar Lee Masters THE EARTH keeps some vibration going
There in your heart, and that is you.
And if the people find you can fiddle,
Why, fiddle you must, for all your life.
What do you see, a harvest of clover?	5
Or a meadow to walk through to the river?
The wind’s in the corn; you rub your hands
For beeves hereafter ready for market;
Or else you hear the rustle of skirts
Like the girls when dancing at Little Grove.	10
To Cooney Potter a pillar of dust
Or whirling leaves meant ruinous drouth;
They looked to me like Red-Head Sammy
Stepping it off, to “Toor-a-Loor.”
How could I till my forty acres	15
Not to speak of getting more,
With a medley of horns, bassoons and piccolos
Stirred in my brain by crows and robins
And the creak of a wind-mill—only these?
And I never started to plow in my life	20
That some one did not stop in the road
And take me away to a dance or picnic.
I ended up with forty acres;
I ended up with a broken fiddle—
And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories,	25
And not a single regret. Gerard van Honthorst, The Merry Fiddler

Good Morning!

Three minutes of beauty for your day. I hope you enjoy. 

Photo taken December 10, 2015

Will there really be a "Morning"?
Is there such a thing as "Day"?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like Water lilies?
Has it feathers like a Bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?

Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!
Oh some Wise Men from the skies!
Please to tell a little Pilgrim
Where the place called "Morning" lies! 

Emily Dickinson

National Poetry Month, Day 12

A literary technique that is commonly used in both poetry and prose is that of symbolism. A symbol is something that has both literal and figurative meaning. In other words, a symbol is both an actual physical object and something else that it stands for. It is different from a metaphor or simile because it is not a comparison between two things but instead a single thing with multiples levels of meaning. Some symbols are fairly obvious, easy to understand, and common to many writers. For example, the color white is often used to symbolize purity or innocence, while black may represent evil or death. A seed may represent hope, and a tree strength. Below are some things that could be used to represent other things. What might each symbolize?

a clock

the color red

rain

a snake

a cave

a house

Bonus word: a symbol that recurs over and over with the same meaning is an archetype. An archetype is so common to the human experience that we hardly even think of it as a symbol and we almost universally associate the object with its symbolic meaning. 

One of the most famous poems ever written is "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. What is the main symbol in this poem? What does it stand for? Do you think it's an archetype?

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The Brook in the Woods, Theodore Clement Steele (1889)

An interesting piece of trivia about "The Road Not Taken" is that, while readers tend to interpret it as a serious reflection on an important decision, Frost is said to have written it to tease a friend of his, another poet named Stanley Burnshaw who was having a hard time making up his mind about something. Is there anything in the poem that might suggest it is not completely serious?

National Poetry Month, Day 11

The last lesson contained an example of a quatrain-- a stanza form consisting of four lines that rhyme in some sort of pattern. In an earlier lesson we studied couplets. These are just two of many options for giving structure and form to poetry. But there is also a type of poetry that does not adhere to any formal guidelines. Instead of being organized into regular stanzas and utilizing meter and rhyme, it is "free" from them and so is called free verse. Due to the lack of rhyme and meter, free verse may not even sound much like poetry when it is read aloud. What sets it apart from prose (non-poetical language) is that it still draws on many other poetic techniques such as intensity and conciseness of expression, figurative language, and a greater emphasis on creating an experience for the reader than on communicating information.

Some people think that free verse is a cop-out--that it is a way of making the writing of poetry easier, since the poet doesn't have to make his message fit within a certain framework. It could be argued, however, that the lack of rhyme and meter means that free verse puts other demands on the poet. Because the poem is not unified by rhyme and meter, it is perhaps even more important that it be unified by other poetic elements.

Below are two poems about the grass. One is in free verse, and one is not. Which is which? Which one do you like better?

In the Grass - Berthe Morisot (1841-1895)

"Spring Grass" - Carl Sandburg

Spring grass, there is a dance to be danced for you. 
Come up, spring grass, if only for young feet. 
Come up, spring grass, young feet ask you. 

Smell of the young spring grass, 
You're a mascot riding on the wind horses. 
You came to my nose and spiffed me. This is your lucky year. 

Young spring grass just after the winter, 
Shoots of the big green whisper of the year, 
Come up, if only for young feet. 
Come up, young feet ask you.

"The Grass" - Emily Dickinson

The Grass so little has to do –
A Sphere of simple Green –
With only Butterflies to brood
And Bees to entertain – 

And stir all day to pretty Tunes
The Breezes fetch along –
And hold the Sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything – 

And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls –
And make itself so fine
A Duchess were too common
For such a noticing – 

And even when it dies – to pass
In Odors so divine –
Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep –
Or Spikenards*, perishing – 

And then, in Sovereign Barns to dwell –
And dream the Days away,
The Grass so little has to do
I wish I were a Hay – 

* a spikenard is a type of herb

I'm sure you figured out that the first poem is in free verse. But even though it sounds rather speech-like, it is very different from prose. Can you identify some of the ways? How does Sandburg help you to experience the grass? What sense words (imagery) and metaphors can you find? Without rhyme and meter, what is used to give the poem form?
  

What type of stanza does Dickinson use in her poem? (quatrain) What is the grass compared to? Why do you think certain words are capitalized? Why would the speaker rather be hay than grass?

(Note: My initial plan was to post a simple poetry lesson in observance of National Poetry Month every week day during April. I have already failed in that plan and will probably continue to do so, but I plan to keep posting as frequently as possible in case there is anyone reading and also to keep me on track with the student in my house!)

National Poetry Month, Day 9

Today let's write some similes and metaphors. Remember, a simile is a stated comparison between two unlike things, and a metaphor is an implied comparison. The example illustrates the difference.

Getting a hug from a friend is like being wrapped in a soft, warm blanket. (simile)
Her hug covered my cold, sad heart in a blanket of warmth and love. (metaphor)

Both expressions compare a hug to a blanket, but the first one comes right out and states it, while the second one only suggests it.

Below are some ideas of things to describe . Pick one or two (or think of your own) and try to write both a simile and a metaphor for each. Start by thinking about the thing you want to describe. What does it look/smell/sound like? How does it make you feel? Then think of what you could compare it to to communicate those things. It may take a few tries to come up with the best combination of words to express what you want. Don't give up! Write down whatever you think of, and then keep adding to it, experimenting, and changing it until you have something that you like. (The most important thing about writing is to just do it. If you wait until you have it perfect in your head before writing it down you'll never get anywhere!)

a happy baby
a baby having a temper tantrum
your pet or another animal
your brother or sister
your house
your bedroom
your best friend
your mom when she's mad at you
your dad when he's proud of you
school
church
your favorite subject
your worst subject
playing outside
running
jumping on a trampoline
swimming
flying in an airplane
playing your favorite video game
singing
playing an instrument
writing
money
your favorite food
a food you hate

Now that you've written some similes and metaphors, look them over. Which one is your favorite? Why?

National Poetry Month, Day 8

Let's be a metaphor detective today. Read the following short poems and see if you can figure out what the metaphor, or implied comparison, is. What is being compared in each poem?


"Good Night" - Victor Hugo

Good night! Good night!
Far flies the light;
But still God's love
Shall flame above,
Making all bright.
Good night! Good night!


"April Rain Song" - Langston Hughes

Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night.

I love the rain.


"Dandelion" - Hilda Conkling

O little soldier with the golden helmet,
What are you guarding on my lawn?
You with your green gun
And your yellow beard,
Why do you stand so stiff?
There is only the grass to fight!


"Skyscrapers" - Rachel Field

Do skyscrapers ever grow tired
Of holding themselves up high?
Do they ever shiver on frosty nights
With their tops against the sky?
Do they feel lonely sometimes
Because they have grown so tall?
Do they ever wish they could like right down
And never get up at all?


"The Horses of the Sea" - Christina Rossetti

The horses of the sea
Rear a foaming crest,
But the horses of the land
Serve us the best.

The horses of the land
Munch corn and clover,
While the foaming sea-horses
Toss and turn over.


If some of the words in the next poem are a little difficult to understand, look them up in a dictionary or ask for help understanding the ones you don't know.

"There is No Frigate Like a Book" - Emily Dickinson

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul! 


There is a special type of metaphor known as personification. When you use personification you give human characteristics to things that aren't human in order to describe them more vividly. Are any of the metaphors in the poems above examples of personification?

National Poetry Month, Day 7

One of the most effective ways to describe something is to compare it to something else. Not only do poets do this, but we do it in real life. Sometimes we state the comparison clearly by saying something is like something else. In that case, the comparison is called a simile. (We might use the word "like" or "as" or we might use a different word, but it's still a simile.) Other times we imply or suggest the comparison rather than state it. In that case, it's called a metaphor. See the example below. Both sentences compare a person's face to the sun (or some other light source), but the first one states the comparison while the second one only implies it.

Her face was shining like the sun. (simile)
Her face shone with joy. (metaphor)

Here's a short poem that is based completely on one metaphor. What two things are being compared?

Monet, The Houses of Parliament Series
(Effect of Fog)

"The Fog"
Carl Sandburg

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

Notice that the poem never says that the fog is like a cat or similar to a cat. It says the fog is a cat.

We'll talk more about metaphors and similes tomorrow. Today, try to listen for both and write a few down. You may be surprised to hear we use them all the time!

National Poetry Month, Day 6

One of the most famous uses of imagery in poetry is this poem by William Carlos Williams:

Farm Girl Feeding Chickens, Julien Dupre*

"The Red Wheelbarrow"

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens



The poem paints a vivid but simple scene. People have been studying it for years, wondering what exactly depends on the red wheel barrow. What do you think the answer is? Why do you think the poem has no capital letters and no punctuation?

One popular poetic form that greatly depends on imagery is the haiku.** Maybe you have written one before. A haiku is a three-line poem about nature. It is Japanese in origin. It is simple but presents a powerful image. The first and third lines have five syllables each; the second line has seven syllables. Here is an example of a haiku in the original Japanese:

Furuike ya 
kawazu tobikomu 
mizu no oto

by Matsuo Basho***

There are various English translations of this poem. Some translators don't try to maintain the syllables but just focus on trying to translate as closely as possible. For example, here is a translation by Robert Hass:

The old pond--
a frog jumps in,
sound of water.

Other translators attempt to maintain both the content and the syllables. Here is a translation by Dion O'Donnol.

The silent old pond
a mirror of ancient calm,
a frog-leaps-in splash.

Which translation do you like better?

Today, try writing your own haiku. If you would like to write about something besides nature you can do so, but then it is called a senryu. Have fun!

Notes: 
*I couldn't find a public domain image of a red wheel barrow but if you look for one you will find zillions because so many artists have been inspired to create one!
**"The Red Wheelbarrow" is not a haiku but is similar in presenting a simple but vivid picture.
***Thank you to Famous Poets and Poems for the original version and translations of "The Old Pond." 

National Poetry Month, Day 5

What do you think of when you hear the word "image"? A picture, perhaps? Or maybe a reflection, as when you see your image in the mirror?

In poetry, imagery is not only language that helps to create a picture in your mind but language that appeals to any of the five senses: sight, hearing, touch, taste and smell. Poets use imagery because they don't just want to tell you about something--they want to help you actually experience it as they have.

Here is a poem about Easter by Celia Thaxter. What words help you to see, smell, and hear Easter morning? To what object are the Easter lilies compared?

"On Easter Day"

Easter lilies! Can you hear
What they whisper, low and clear?
In dewy fragrance they unfold
Their splendor sweet, their snow and gold.
Every beauty-breathing bell
News of heaven has to tell.
Listen to their mystic voice,
Hear, oh mortal, and rejoice!
Hark, their soft and heavenly chime!
Christ is risen for all time! 

Now let's back up a little. Do you see any alliteration, assonance, or consonance? If so, what words or images seem to be emphasized by the repetition?

Also, did you notice this poem is written in couplets?

Here's another poem with plenty of imagery. What words help you to see, hear, and feel the month of April? Is there any alliteration, assonance or consonance in this poem?

"April" - Sara Teasdale

The roofs are shining from the rain. 
The sparrows twitter as they fly, 
And with a windy April grace 
The little clouds go by.

Yet the back-yards are bare and brown 
With only one unchanging tree-- 
I could not be so sure of Spring 
Save that it sings in me. 

National Poetry Month, Day 4

One of the things that sets poetry apart from prose is the emphasis placed on the sound of the words. Meter and rhyme, which we already discussed, are two aspects of that. Another is alliteration. Alliteration is the repetition of the beginning sounds in a group of words. Tongue twisters are a great example of alliteration:

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.
She sells seashells by the seashore.

What is the point of alliteration? Why do poets use it? In poetry, sound effects are used to emphasize or bring attention to the meaning the poet wants to convey. For example,

The slimy, hissing snake slithered sneakily through the grass.

Do you notice all the s's? They help us to imagine the snake even more. We can almost hear it hissing!

Related to alliteration are two other devices: assonance and consonance. They are both like alliteration in that they involve the repetition of sounds, but instead of coming at the beginnings of words the repeated sounds are contained within words. Assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds, and consonance is the repetition of--you got it!--consonant sounds. Can you find assonance and consonance in the example above? (Assonance: hissing, slithered, sneakily; Consonance: hissing, grass)

Boy, that's a lot of terms. Don't worry if you can't remember them all. Just remember that poetry is meant to be spoken, so poets choose their words not only for what they mean but for how they sound, and one of their most basic tools is repetition.

Try using alliteration, assonance and consonance by writing a tongue twister about yourself or someone you know. It can be pretend or real, serious or silly. Here's one I wrote. What vowel and consonant sounds, both at the beginnings of words and within words, do you see repeated?

Cheryl shared her sherbet with the thirty-three shrill chefs. 

National Poetry Month, Day 3

One of the oldest and simplest poetic forms is the couplet. A couplet is made up of two metrical lines that rhyme and that express a complete idea. The first verse of "Jesus Loves Me" is made up of two couplets.

Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong,
They are weak but He is strong.

Here are a few couplets by famous authors. What do you think they mean?

Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
(William Shakespeare, from Romeo & Juliet)

For all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: "It might have been!"
(John Greenleaf Whittier, from "Maud Muller")

The world is so full of a number of things
I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.
(Robert Louis Stevenson)

Here are some silly couplets.

The Lord in His wisdom made the fly
And then forgot to tell us why.
(Ogden Nash)

I have the measles and the mumps,
a gash, a rash, and purple bumps.
(Shel Silverstein)

Do you have any Dr. Seuss books? Dr. Seuss wrote almost completely in couplets. Can you think of a couplet from your favorite Dr. Seuss book?

Today, let's try to write a couplet. Pick a person, a food you love or hate, an animal (maybe your pet), or something else, and see if you can write a couplet about it. Maybe you can write more than one!

National Poetry Month, Day 2

Sometimes people think of poetry as being alien and hard to understand. But some of the first poems you probably ever heard were simple nursery rhymes like this one:

Hey, diddle, diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon;

The little dog laughed

To see such sport,

And the dish ran away with the spoon.

(Mother Goose)

One of the things children like about nursery rhymes is their songlike quality. They are easy to learn and remember because they have rhyme and meter. Rhyme and meter are not essential to a poem (yesterday’s poem had neither!), but they are two of the things we most closely associate with poetry.

Rhyme occurs when words end with similar sounds; meter occurs when the rhythm follows a pattern, resulting in a regular “beat.” What words rhyme in “Hey, Diddle, Diddle”? (diddle and fiddle; moon and spoon) Try saying “Hey, Diddle, Diddle” while stomping on the strong beats and clapping on the weak beats. Can you describe the pattern? (strong-weak-weak, strong-weak-weak, etc.)

Here’s another nursery rhyme. What is its beat pattern (meter)? Stomp and clap again to figure it out.

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after.

(strong-weak-strong-weak, etc.)

Do the last words of the two lines in “Jack and Jill” rhyme? (Not exactly.) Do they sound a little alike? (Yes.) This is called slant rhyme. Slant rhyme is also sometimes called near, half, or approximate rhyme.

What are some other nursery rhymes you remember from when you were younger? I bet you can think of quite a few! Today, see if you can find an old Mother Goose book on your bookshelf and read some more just for fun!

Post images courtesy of Project Gutenberg. 

National Poetry Month, Day 1

To begin, let's talk about poetry. What is it? What makes a poem? (Possible answers: intensity and economy of expression, strong appeal to senses, figurative language, rhyme, rhythm, division into lines and stanzas, meant to be read aloud.)

Even if you don't read a lot of poetry, you encounter poetry all the time in real life. Can you think of some places that we often see or hear poems? (Possible answers: Bible, hymns, songs on the radio or television, greeting cards.)

Let's read a poem about poetry.

"How to Eat a Poem" - Eve Merriam

Don't be polite.
Bite in.
Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that

may run down your chin.
It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are.You do not need a knife or fork or spoon
or plate or napkin or tablecloth.
For there is no core
or stem
or rind
or pit
or seed
or skin
to throw away.

Is this what you usually think of when you think of poetry? Why or why not? (Answer may be no since there is no rhyme or meter.) What makes this a poem? (Possible answers: it is written in lines rather than paragraph form. It creates a picture in your head. It makes a vivid comparison.)
What is the comparison in this poem? (A poem is compared to a piece of fruit.) According to the poet, how is a poem like a piece of fruit? (You have to "bite" into it with enthusiasm. It is juicy and flavorful.) How is it different? (There is nothing to throw away.) Do you like this poem? Why or why not?

As we continue through our month of poetry, be thinking about what you think makes a good poem. Look for poetry in everyday life. Keep a journal for the month where you write down any thoughts you have about poetry, poems you like, and poems you write. Have fun!

National Poetry Month

April is National Poetry Month! Thus far I have not done much formal poetry study with my last remaining homeschool student, so now seems as good a time as any to rectify that situation. To that end, we will be observing National Poetry Month here at the Philipp Nicolai Lutheran Academy by doing something poetry-related every weekday during the month of April. My plan is to post each day's activity here for anyone who would like to join in. You are also invited to share your own ideas or report on what you are doing (or have done in the past) in your own home school. I do not intend for this to become a stressful or burdensome process, so the activities will be short, sweet, and--I hope--fun. They will be designed for elementary level children who are not terribly excited about poetry because that is what I have in my house. :-)

I will try to post each day's activity the night before, which means the first post will be tomorrow, March 31. Hope to see you back here then!

Rejoice, rejoice . . . Who?

I ran across this fun article linking Christmas carols and grammar. It got me to thinking about one of my pet peeves: the way the Advent hymn "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is typically sung. The refrain of that hymn is as follows:

"Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel!"

Most people understandably tend to breathe after the word "Emmanuel." It's the end of a line, right? And in most musical settings the last syllable of the word occurs on a longer, held note. It's a natural place to breathe. The problem is that when one breathes there, the sense of the line is confused and it sounds like we are telling Emmanuel to rejoice instead of telling Israel to rejoice because Emmanuel is coming.

For this reason, I prefer the musical setting of this hymn in which the "-el" of "Emmanuel" is given only an eighth note and is followed by a series of eighth notes that carry through to the final syllable of the final word. Keeping the rhythm moving more effectively preserves the meaning of the line. Then a quick breath can be taken at the comma after the word "thee." A skillful lead musician will make sure the accompaniment supports this approach, allowing time for the singers to breathe at the comma.

The likelihood, though, is that this Advent you and I will sing the setting of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" that has a long note at the end of the first line. In that case, I encourage you to do what I do. Take a nice, deep breath after the second "Rejoice" and try to sing all the way to "thee" on that one breath. After "thee" take a quick catch breath to finish the refrain. You may be the only one holding out that "el" but you can pat yourself on the back for doing your part to preserve the poetry of the hymn. And who knows, maybe you will start a new trend!

A Poem

Dictated to me this morning by Evan.

 

My Sister

 

My sister is agile

Fast as the wind

She is very truthful

No other doubt

Her bones are quick

Her bones are strong

She is very trustworthy

No lying skin

But this sister of mine

She lies asleep in the morning

When she can be doing stuff she can

Man, what can make this person so pooped?

The Writer

This beautiful young woman is 17 years old today. She was a little reluctant to make her entrance into the world, so at almost two weeks overdue she was induced. To make it convenient for the delivering doctor we checked into the hospital at about 7:00 p.m. Caitlin kept me up all night and is a night owl to this day. She was born at about 6:00 in the morning, my biggest baby at 9 pounds, 12 ounces. She had a head full of black hair and I wondered if she was mine. Indeed she was, and for that I will be ever thankful. What a blessing is a daughter who loves, cares, and thinks as deeply as this one does and who lives in a way that honors both her parents and her God. One of my birdies has already left the nest and this one is not far behind. I will miss her so.

I wish I could write a poem for my daughter, the writer. Maybe some day I will. For now, I will borrow the words of another. For you, Caitlin. Happy birthday with love.

 "The Writer"

In her room at the prow of the house

Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story.

I pause in the stairwell, hearing
From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys
Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

Young as she is, the stuff
Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:
I wish her a lucky passage.

But now it is she who pauses,
As if to reject my thought and its easy figure.
A stillness greatens, in which

The whole house seems to be thinking,
And then she is at it again with a bunched clamor
Of strokes, and again is silent.

I remember the dazed starling
Which was trapped in that very room, two years ago;
How we stole in, lifted a sash

And retreated, not to affright it;
And how for a helpless hour, through the crack of the door,
We watched the sleek, wild, dark

And iridescent creature
Batter against the brilliance, drop like a glove
To the hard floor, or the desk-top,

And wait then, humped and bloody,
For the wits to try it again; and how our spirits
Rose when, suddenly sure,

It lifted off from a chair-back, 
Beating a smooth course for the right window
And clearing the sill of the world.

It is always a matter, my darling,
Of life or death, as I had forgotten.  I wish
What I wished you before, but harder.

--Richard Wilbur

"And do you think their conscience prickles? No, it tickles."

Caitlin and I are back to the Cameron Thompson book for literature. Last week and this it was poetry. I get away from reading poetry for long periods of time and then when I get back to it I wonder why I stayed away. There is just nothing like a great poem for awakening senses that have been numbed by a too-long stretch of existential days. This morning I spent about an hour sitting in the parking lot reading poetry while Caitlin was at geometry and came to the conclusion that I am not getting enough of sunshine, fresh air, or poetry these days! 


Here's one that I particularly appreciated. It's by Ogden Nash. Remember him? He wrote all those fun animal poems you enjoy reading to your children. Well, here's one for us grownups. It's from the "Truth" section of the book. The poem exudes Nash's characteristic whimsicality, but beneath the lighthearted tone is a cynical testament to the benefits of dissembling.     


"Golly, How Truth Will Out!"- Ogden Nash


How does a person get to be a capable liar? 
That is something that I respectfully inquiar, 
Because I don't believe a person will ever set the world on fire 
Unless they are a capable lire. 
Some wise men said that words were given to us to conceal our thoughts 
But if a person has nothing but truthful words why their thoughts haven't even the protection of a pair of panties or shoughts,
And a naked thought is ineffectual as well as improper, 
And hasn't a chance in the presence of a glib chinchilla-clad whopper. 
One of the greatest abilities a person can have, I guess, 
Is the ability to say Yes when they mean No and No when they mean Yes. 
Oh to be Machiavellian, oh to be unscrupulous, oh, to be glib! 
Oh to be ever prepared with a plausible fib! 
Because then a dinner engagement or a contract or a treaty is no longer a fetter, 
Because liars can just logically lie their way out of it if they don't like it or if one comes along that they like better; 
And do you think their conscience prickles? 
No, it tickles. 
And please believe that I mean every one of these lines as I am writing them 
Because once there was a small boy who was sent to the drugstore to buy some bitter stuff to put on his nails to keep him from biting them, 
And in his humiliation he tried to lie to the clerk 
And it didn't work, 
Because he said My mother sent me to buy some bitter stuff for a friend of mine's nails that bites them, and the clerk smiled wisely and said I wonder who that friend could be, 
And the small boy broke down and said Me, 
And it was me, or at least I was him, 
And all my subsequent attempts at subterfuge have been equally grim, 
And that is why I admire a suave prevarication because I prevaricate so awkwardly and gauchely, 
And that is why I can never amount to anything politically or socially.