Adventure & Poetry in a Cup of Tea

Morning Haiku

glorious morning

teacup guards greenery

the season of frost has passed

The Road Not Taken

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.

~ Robert Frost ~

Poetry in Word & Picture

April is National Poetry Month. It was inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996 and has continued on for every April thereafter. It is a time when schools, publishers, libraries, booksellers, and poets throughout the United States celebrate poetry and the place it holds in American culture. Each year my blogging friend, Christy, celebrates this month on her blog 'Gathering Around the Table' by posting poetry that speaks to her heart. Today I am joining her in this quest.

Four days
Her petals furled
Gainst chilling wind and rain.
Came sun and rose disclosed her heart
Purr gold

Emma Berthelot

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

William Wordworth

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of 
strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something 
infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature— the assurance
that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.

Rachel Carson

The photo is of Sally, who is poetry in a picture.

Snow Flakes

Snow Flakes

by Emily Dickenson

I counted till they danced so

Their slippers leaped the town,

And then I took a pencil

To note the rebels down.

And then they grew so jolly

I did resign the prig,

And ten of my once stately toes

Are marshalled for a jig!

Violets

The violets are blooming!  These  flowers speak of romance and angst.  Their tiny faces peer out through bunches of heart-shaped leaves and their fragrant perfume fills the air.  They are a flower of poets.  Shall we enjoy some classic poetry that has been inspired by this little gem?

The Violet

Johann Wolfgang Goethe

1749 - 1832

A violet in the meadow grew,

blushing quietly, quite unknown;

a pretty little violet.

A young shepherdess drew near,

with tripping foot and merry heart,

she came alone,

singing through the meadow.

If only, the violet mused, I were

the finest flower int he world,

just for a little while,

until the dear girl picked me

and pressed me to her heart 'til I died,

if only, if only for a quarter of an hour!

Alas! The girl approached

and paid no heed to the violet;

she trod it underfoot.

It sank and died, yet it rejoiced:

if I must die, at least I die through her,

through her, here, 'neath her feet.

Poor violet!

It was a pretty violet!

The Lost Love

William Wordsworth

1770 - 1850

She dwelt among the untrodden ways

     Beside the springs of Dove:

A maid whom there were none to praise

     And very few to love.

A violet by a mossy stone

     Half-hidden from the eye!-

Fair as a star, when only one

     Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know

     When Lucy ceased to be;

But she is in her grave, and, oh,

     The difference to me!

The Flowers

All the names I know from nurse:
Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,
And the Lady Hollyhock.

Fairy places, fairy things,
Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,
Tiny trees for tiny dames--
These must all be fairy names!

Tiny woods below whose boughs
Shady fairies weave a house;
Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,
Where the braver fairies climb!

Fair are grown-up people's trees,
But the fairest woods are these;
Where, if I were not so tall,
I should live for good and all. 

~ Robert Louise Stevenson ~ 

Lulu enjoys the beauty of a simple dandelion. Even the 

simplicity of a lone dandelion is made beautiful when 

appreciated by a child. 

Photo @ by Paula 

How Do I Love Thee?

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need; by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath.
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."

Elizabeth Barrett Browning