Posted by: JulieAloha | April 30, 2017

365 Gratitude Project -Day 120: Poetry

April 30, 2017

This is the last day of Poetry Month and I’ve enjoyed finding new pieces to read and provide here on my blog to support each entry this month – I even wrote a few pieces myself! The forms of poetry are many and varied; the written and spoken word in verse, prose, patter, lyric, song or free association can give rich context to thought or idea, to dream and imagination, and insight into the mind of the poet as well as the reader. I was taught early to love reading and fell in love with poetry as a child. I was influenced by my elementary school librarian, who recognized a kindred soul, and by my sister, Ella, who once gave me an Anthology of Poetry, which I devoured. Do yourself a favor; pick up a verse once in a while and let it sink in to your mind and heart, and keep a little poem in your pocket.

From the Tropical Rainforest exhibit, poetry for the eyes and nose

This has always been one of my favorite poems, from “Alice in Wonderland”:

Jabberwocky

by Lewis Carroll

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves 
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: 
All mimsy were the borogoves, 
      And the mome raths outgrabe. 

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son! 
      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! 
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun 
      The frumious Bandersnatch!” 

He took his vorpal sword in hand; 
      Long time the manxome foe he sought— 
So rested he by the Tumtum tree 
      And stood awhile in thought. 

And, as in uffish thought he stood, 
      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, 
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, 
      And burbled as it came! 

One, two! One, two! And through and through 
      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! 
He left it dead, and with its head 
      He went galumphing back. 

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? 
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy! 
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” 
      He chortled in his joy. 

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves 
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: 
All mimsy were the borogoves, 
      And the mome raths outgrabe.


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