Track them most as wanderers
Life's deep ponderers.
Who scales this rarefied air
Breathes in genius!
By what, in fowl, does impress
For soaring progress
Led on as twere. Inspired, more
Again, as if by
Their own breakthroughs, fiery-high.
Divine! Splenderous!
rabid bard
perforce
binds
untethered reins
of a supple wit
excising
the ornate quills
head lowered
body tilts
into commas
whittling lyrics
through his swivet
I have heard and hear again
The words of many, many great men
That there is here unseen but real
Invisible forces which still and heal
So, no disturbances of wild mind
Can cancel our peace or enter our time
Or force us out of safety, or push us out of faith
Or annul the blessings of your love and grace
So, concentrating on your holy face
I am infused with your spirit of divinity chaste
And I am re-anchored in the perfumed realm
With Cherubim and Christ
Enthroned at the Kingdom’s helm
If I had a time machine, I would visit Samuel T Coleridge
My favorite poet of all time, the author or Kubla Khan
"The wailing of his demon lover” sticks in my mind
Delighting me every time, especially today, May 1st, 1803.
As I was speaking to Samuel, his pal William Wordsworth would drop in
They would ask me if I wanted to write a ballad with them.
I would be thunderstruck with happiness but too shy to do it
However, I would clap in rhythm as they created
Wordsworth would talk about his deep love of the
“Beauteous forms of the natural world”
I would be amazed by their vocabulary
They would both blow my mind out into the hills
I would set my time machine to 1858 next.
To visit Jules Verne, one of my favorite authors.
I would ask him how he thought to create
Around the world in eighty days and twenty leagues under the sea.
Amazed that we still speak of him in 2025,
he would have a zillion interesting questions to ask me
I would set the time machine to year 1868 next. .
My last stop would be to visit Louisa May Alcott, author of Little Women.
William danced with daffodils
amidst his lovely Cumbrian hills
Penning poesy 'easy on the ear'
is why many hold him dear
English poet, William Wordsworth,
wrote to serve the common people on the earth.
Along with Samuel Coleridge, the Romantic Age he started.
Support for free thought his words imparted.
"Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher"
William Wordsworth
With the rhythm of his passionate poetry,
rolled the silver-crested wave of romanticism,
inundating the shore of English literature,
where he emerged as the seminal figure.
The beauteous natural world
imparted didactic quality to his poems,
finding correspondence between nature and soul,
and between self and matchless imagination.
The color, fragrance and sounds of spring,
shine of autumn sky, sparkle of sun-soaked water,
made lasting romantic impression in his mind,
influencing the growth of his poetic genius.
He had firm faith in the magnificence of nature
as the prime source of true happiness and joy,
that could enlighten the kindheartedness,
and enhance the spiritual awareness.
A worshipper of nature, he eulogized its charm,
captured the flushing splendor of the landscape
when he felt he “wandered lonely as a cloud”,
to be aptly christened as the poet of nature.
______________
January 16, 2023
Contest : Beloved Poets
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
If I could write a poem now
A lonely cloud, this page I’d fill
With Wordsworth or a word’s worth
I’d fill this page with daffodils
Now the words, they don’t come easy
The great ones tell you it’s a skill
But I would rather be a fool
And fill my head with daffodils
There is no rhyme or reason
No belles lettres, no fancy frills
That, like a dewdrop, glistens
Upon the yellow daffodils
If I could write a poem now
Neither would my pen nor soul sit still
But would twirl and spiral to a tune
Dancing with the daffodils.
Instilled flesh and blood of romance in poesy,
That, till then, looked a skeleton-like cogency...!
Gave life to Mother Nature who, once, was ignored,
From you on, in a new form, nature got adored...!
Physical and psychic growth of humanity,
You said, like nectar in blooms, secrete sanity...!
Should observe and understand nature's mysteries,
To give shape to true universal histories...!
With sole romantic soul, one should communicate,
Should, communion with the self and supreme create...!
Nature ever enlightens the humble in heart,
Inspires to bring out the best of creative art...!
The universal brotherhood of beings, forms,
When harmony with nature turns true cosmic norms...!
The truth comes alive in the heart through true feelings,
Peace and freedom must permeate human dealings...!
Wrote your life in poetic form as the prelude,
Your paths, midst happiness, often seemed rough and rude...!
Truths you said and did and lived full till reached eighty.
Got wrapped with nature with your entire entity...!!!
12 January 2023
Beloved Poets Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
I
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame mysteries in the sky!
II
When the world is too much with us
He sends visions, Ramanujans, Christ
III
Shakespeare had dreams, even awake
When humanity was poor in tea & cake
IV
God gives words to poets: leaves sailing -
To begin - loving a pet, sky - urge growing
Ah, dearest Wordsworth,
what dost thou think?
Of my meaningless poetry,
scribbled in purple ink?
Fooling myself, that I am an
international poet?
Just a beginner, and don't
think I do not know it!
Would that you were here
by my side.
A poet master, both to rule
and to guide!
With lantern aglow, I know
not which way to go!
Just lost in wonder, as the
last kiss of the winds of
summer doth with kindness blow.
On the 'morrow, shall read your
works with love, so vociferously!
Next to the waterfall, beneath the
scent of an intoxicating orange tree!
8/21/2021
3
It arises
From a tangled emotional mind
through crazy tongues inane
from intellectual brain sane
or may be straight from heart
It dons
Rich vocabularies to enrich content;
Rare adjectives, the special add-ons
And at times archaic words to adorn
or sometimes just a simple verse
It comes in
Perfect meter to look perfect
Proper rhymes that read better
New forms which form trend setter
or sometimes goes just with the flow
It boasts of
Podium win and the adorned crown
Top placement, shared with people around
Honourable placement, stated down
Or umpteen n numbered N/As
Be it a serious content or hilarious limerick
Either a Short tanka or the longest writing
Every words we pen come from within
Ain't that bad to categorize: best and worst
Are not every poetry and poets' word(s)worth???
I wandered lonely as a cloud—Oh dear!
I watched the dance of daffodils—Oh my!
When on my couch in vacant mood I lie
And feel their wealthy fluttering draw near.
I see them toss their heads like twinkling stars;
A sparkling, sprightly, jocund company.
I gaze, I gaze, they outdo waves with glee;
A host, a crowd, ten thousand avatars.
They flash within my pensive inward eye;
My heart is oft with pleasure filled each day.
Alone a poet could not be but gay;
Especially great Romantics such as I.
I cringe to think that out of all the rest,
This poem might one day be deemed my best.
A parody of William Wordsworth's poem "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" (aka "Daffodils")
I recite and read aloud,
wander, lonely as a cloud,
then emulate and create
as memory stimulates;
Swim against poetry's tide
therein,an enigma hide,
perhaps,a step too far,with
Tennyson,crossing the bar;
I dream on Will's sonnet verse,
figuratively,sweet and terse,
lazing life away,with songs
compared to a summer's day.
To conjure an opening line
ever,remembered,as mine.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
Basking in sunlight, feeling proud
When by and by on a different side
A surging wind frolicked natures door
briskly fluttered a peonies tide
as my path descends a valley floor
It took me to places that I knew
wherever fickle wildflowers grew
Timeless impression, that I had felt
a cast in the grass that was portrayed
a fate of good fortune had been dealt
for the rustic texture did persuade
Beauty so pure, that nature assure
A days thought ponders in memory
My relevant lure was its sole cure
Treasured keepsake beckons my story.
2020 January 28
“I wandered lonely as a cloud” by William Wordsworth
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