No romancing
Nor dancing,
Or lovelorn glancing.
Men advancing
As stallions prancing
Towards nymphs on plinths.
Love, she departed long since
No romancing
Nor dancing,
Or lovelorn glancing.
Men advancing
As stallions prancing
Towards nymphs on plinths.
Love, she departed long since
An enclosed garden.
Cloudless skies.
Roses entwine on ancient walls.
Lovers entangle on new mown hay.
“No entry” the sign reads.
I pass on by.
Evening.
Lonely men of a certain age.
Heels echo on deserted pavements.
Laughter of young women.
Scent wafts into open windows, perfuming sterile sitting rooms.
Knowledge and desire contend.
Nature pretty girls sends,
Man’s heart into love’s heaven ascends.
Learning is at an end.
Beautiful butterflies flitting in and out of my life,
Here,for a moment, then gone in a trice.
An interlude of pleasure, thence you hurry away,
Lovely creature will you not stay?
I have longed for fellow travellers to relieve my solitary wanderings.
I have wandered with crowds and yearned to be alone.
I have sought for love’s spring in deserts vast and, having drunk have wished my companion a million miles away.
Many thanks to Kerry Kijewski for the below guest post.
Kevin
Literature has always had an impact on my life, for as long as I can
remember, and I love it because it is where so many lessons and themes about
life can be found.
Over the years, as my love of these stories and characters grew, I began to
notice something interesting.
I seemed to be drawn to a group of fictional characters, all with a common
thread of similarity.
What might this be?
Three of my most favourite characters in all of literature are: Anne
Shirley, Frodo Baggins, and Harry Potter.
What do these three have in common?
They are, all three of them, orphans.
Anne of Anne of Green Gables fame, my favourite Canadian, red-haired
heroine, was orphaned as an infant. She grew up, being passed from home to
home, finally settling with Marilla and Mathew Cuthbert, an elderly sister
and brother, purely by mistake. This began her life finally, her first
experience with being wanted and loved. Of course, her early life
experiences had a profound affect on the person she would become.
Then there’s Frodo Baggins. This main protagonist and ring bearer of The
Lord of the Rings was orphaned, too, as a child. Eventually he would end up
living with his uncle Bilbo, who had carried the ring before him. Frodo was
adopted by Bilbo, taken in like a son, and from there his life is majorly
changed and his adventure truly begins.
And finally, Harry Potter was orphaned at one years old, when his parents
are murdered in cold blood by the most evil wizard of all time. He was
nearly killed himself, but some secret magic gave him an unexpected
protection. He spends the next decade, raised by his aunt and uncle, who do
not want him and do not bother to hide the fact that they don’t. His world
is only changed for the better when he discovers he has been accepted to
Hogwarts, a school for young witches and wizards. He finally has friends and
those friends become his family, in all the ways that matter.
“Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry. He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother.”
—Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
So why, do you ask, am I attracted to these orphaned characters? Precisely for the reason illustrated in this quote.
I believe this is because I have experienced the exact opposite in real
life. I could not imagine what it would be like to not know what it felt like to be hugged and comforted when I was upset.
I was born into a loving family, with adoring parents and three siblings. I
had security and never felt, for one second, that I was unwanted or
unloved.
I believe we read fiction to escape into another world, yes, but also to
learn about worlds we, ourselves, have not known. We read to learn what it’s
like for someone else, at least I do.
I am fascinated by how a child can grow and develop character and still come
out with empathy and love, when they themselves did not have love as
children, to learn what love means all the more because they missed out from
the beginning.
I can’t imagine what it must feel like to not have love and not to be adored
and nurtured. I read Anne of Green Gables, Lord of the Rings, and Harry
Potter to study their main characters and how they interact with others. I
feel empathy for these characters, fictional as they are, and I am all the
more thankful and appreciative of what I’ve had in my own life.
That, I think, is what truly wonderful fiction can do.
Bio:
Kerry is a writer and blogger. She loves all things books and literature. She writes to make sense of the world around her. She believes life is one big headache, equal parts painful and beautiful.
She blogs at
https://kkherheadache.wordpress.com
You can find her at Facebook and on Twitter:
https://www.facebook.com/herheadacheblog
She lives in Ontario, Canada with her literary themed dog Dobby and cat Lumos.
The flower radiant with spring’s promise glows
The bee of sweet nectar sups, tarries perchance awhile then goes.
Thoughts of my grandfather mingle with the wind’s sad cadence, as it shakes my windows.
Acorns, fur cohns and conkers strew the forest floor. Many have fallen from the branches which overhang the pavement.
The feel of nature’s bounty in my coat pockets as I walk home. Conkers to be put away in drawers to harden, acorns for planting in grandfather’s garden.
You told me that weather cohns (you called the fur’s fruit that, or do I confuse the seeds with those of the pine tree?) open to signify fine weather and close to portend storms. Was it an old wive’s tale?
The acorn I planted in the garden which grew into a tree. You didn’t have the heart to tell me that, by chance a weed had rooted where, I hoped an oak would stand. .
I still have your cufflinks in a box, safe in a drawer.
Where they one of a kind?
Did they in romance combine?
Did they dance through the night by the moonlight?
Did the stars up above shine down on their love?
Was it joy they did find?
Who knows, she left her shoes behind.