Poetry 12

We found this poem several years ago in a library book; I copied it down and then lost the paper. Last week we were delighted to find it again in a different library book. Here it is on the blog so we won't lose it again!


The Hen
by Lord Alfred Douglas

The Hen is a ferocious fowl,
She pecks you till she makes you howl.

And all the time she flaps her wings,
And says the most insulting things.

And when you try to take her eggs,
She bites large pieces from your legs.

The only safe way to get these,
Is to creep on your hands and knees.

In the meanwhile a friend must hide,
And jump out on the other side.

And then you snatch the eggs and run,
While she pursues the other one.

The difficulty is, to find
A trusty friend who will not mind.

One of the worst

Not to brag or anything, but the Deseret News recognized me this morning for my bad writing.

Last year when the Bad Opening Sentences contest came around, I couldn't think of anything to send in. Then, as soon as the deadline passed, two or three ideas came immediately to mind. I wrote them down and added to the list from time to time, and this year I was ready.

The funny thing is, the one they decided to print was not the one I thought was the best (that is, worst). I'll have to come up with new ones for next year, and since I don't want the other awful ones to be wasted, here they are for the historical record.

The one they printed for "Best Local Color":

As LaVonda waited uncomfortably for the uniformed officers to use the "Jaws of Life" to extricate her from her mangled car, she pondered in turn the fragility of life, the massiveness of 18-wheelers, the difficulty of text-messaging while eating fries and driving, and finally, how she could use this experience as an object lesson in her next Sunday school class.


And here are the others. For the last one, you have to understand that there's an ongoing joke about entries involving talking unicorns.


Marcia snuggled into John's arms, thinking how lucky she was to have found him, and how different her life had been ever since the Liquid-Plumr of his love had eaten its way through the clogged drainpipe leading to her heart.

Fifty years, it had been -- fifty tedious, painful years of waiting –- waiting, ever hoping, yet hardly daring to hope; fifty long years had rolled on, leaving him trapped, unable to move in any direction, fixed in time by an insurmountable force –- at least, it felt like fifty years, but he had probably only been at the intersection of Bangerter and 35th for three and a half minutes before the light finally changed.

Doug had just spent three hours connecting and re-connecting the TV, DVD player, stereo system, and the new speakers, and now, as he thumbed the power button on the remote and the poignant notes of the "Gilligan's Island" theme song filled the room, he couldn't help murmuring in awe, "I must be a genius or somethin'."

Lying with his head and shoulders under the bathroom sink, an impressive array of tools arranged where he could easily reach them, competently and efficiently using his wrench, Jed felt like one of the engine room personnel on the Starship Enterprise –- not the chief engineer, it would be presumptuous to compare his moderate skill with that of the master, but certainly one of the trusted assistants -– until the trap suddenly came loose and his new identity was washed away in a rush of dirty water.

As Xyla the warrior princess, scantily clad in leather and ready for battle, galloped into the village on her magnificent Arabian steed, she was outraged to see that show-off Princess Xxyyna from the next kingdom over, clad in even less leather, dismounting from her talking unicorn to accept the adulation of the villagers for whom she had obviously already saved the day.

Poetry 11

We had a star party tonight to finish off our astronomy class. It was amazing to look through telescopes and see the craters on the moon, Jupiter with three of its moons, and the far-away blur of the Andromeda galaxy. But I had just as much fun staring up into the sky and trying to pick out stars that were on my star chart. Later, after we came home and the rest of the family went to bed, I opened up A Child's Garden of Verses to find a poem I had in mind to post, and I came upon a different poem I don't remember reading before. But just look how appropriate it is after an evening of star-watching! I'll have to read it with my kids tomorrow.


Escape at Bedtime
by Robert Louis Stevenson

The lights from the parlor and kitchen shone out
    Through the blinds and the windows and bars;
And high overhead and all moving about,
    There were thousands of millions of stars.
There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a tree,
    Nor of people in church or the park,
As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me,
    And that glittered and winked in the dark.
The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all,
    And the star of the sailor, and Mars,
These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall
    Would be half-full of water and stars.
They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries,
    And they soon had me packed into bed;
But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes,
    And the stars going round in my head.

Daily necessities

I was reading a blog I like, Here in the Bonny Glen, and the author linked back to a post from 2006 about her "Rule of Six" -- that is, six things she tries to include in her family's lives each day:

-meaningful work
-imaginative play
-good books
-beauty (art, music, nature)
-ideas to ponder and discuss
-prayer

Then in the comments, someone mentioned this quote from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:

"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

I'm a list-loving person. I make plenty of to-do lists, goal lists, and priority lists, and my lists tend to be long and always getting longer. But a very short list, distilled down to the most important, most indispensable things that could enrich each day, would be interesting to think about and create. (Not to mention more memorable than a long list, and more doable on busy days!)

Golden Spike visit

Yesterday we finally went to see the Golden Spike National Historic Site. I grew up in Utah and I'd never been there -- maybe because it's truly out in the middle of nowhere and not just somewhere you can drop by on your way to somewhere else.

We've hit the in-between fall weather, where the mornings are chilly and then it warms up by afternoon. T. insisted that he was freezing when we left.



Needless to say, coat, hat, and gloves came off before too long.

We spent some time in the visitor center, looking at the exhibits about trains and the construction of the railroad. Not ever having spent much time near railroad tracks, I thought it was fascinating to see how they're put together. Then we watched a movie. They have several to choose from, and the kids unanimously voted for the Charlie Brown one, which had a surprising amount of detail for a kids' show and also kept T. laughing and interested.

We went out to see the place where it happened:



Not a great photo, but T. is looking at the replica of the polished laurelwood tie that was ceremonially placed for the four ceremonial spikes to go into. (Then, of course, they were all removed and a real tie and real spikes were used to finish the railroad.)



All these tracks have been rebuilt for the historic site. The original tracks were taken up in the 40s to use the steel for the war.



We found out that just days before, the trains had been put inside for the winter. Usually they are out on the tracks. We did get to go in the engine shed and look at the trains, though. The photos didn't come out well here either, because of the lighting, but here is the Jupiter replica, with the No. 119 replica behind it. The original trains are long gone, but these were built to be almost exactly like the originals. The only differences are safety features.

It was an educational trip and worth the drive. Some other time it would be fun to go in the summer when they do a reenactment of the 1869 ceremony.

Poetry 10

This poem was written in 1915, but it seems timeless to me. The author was getting ready to enlist, so soldiers were on his mind, but I think the poem could also describe someone coming to an awareness that there are many homeless and hungry souls.

The Owl
by Edward Thomas

Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;
Cold, yet had heat within me that was proof
Against the North wind; tired, yet so that rest
Had seemed the sweetest thing under a roof.

Then at the inn I had food, fire, and rest,
Knowing how hungry, cold, and tired was I.
All of the night was quite barred out except
An owl's cry, a most melancholy cry

Shaken out long and clear upon the hill,
No merry note, nor cause of merriment,
But one telling me plain what I escaped
And others could not, that night, as in I went.

And salted was my food, and my repose,
Salted and sobered, too, by the bird's voice
Speaking for all who lay under the stars,
Soldiers and poor, unable to rejoice.