Poetry

This week, for school, I've been reading a lot of poetry, mostly from the 17th and 18th centuries.  It's all so beautiful; I've been relishing all of it.

One particular poet, Ben Jonson, stood out to me, and I thought I'd share a bit of his work.

A Poem-less Winner

We've got a winner for our little first-name contest!  But here's the deal... TWO people got the answer right.  I just quickly pulled up a random number generator to see who officially won, and this is the result:

Without further ado, the winner is..........

Stephen O'Loughlin, who guessed correctly that my first name is, in fact, Sara.  (No "h" at the end, mind you.)

Long story short, my mama and daddy named me Sara Caroline, but it turned out that I looked more like a Caroline than a Sara.  And so it was, and so it is, that I am Caroline.

I was Sara in 3rd and 4th grade when I went to private school, but that's because we were learning cursive and it takes a loooongggggg time for a lazy little girl to write eight letters when she has the option of writing four.  And thus, I was Sara for two years.  Truly, though, I've always liked Caroline better.

Here's the deal, though.  Stephen specifically asked for no poem to be written in his winning honor, and so I shall respect that.  Next week, we'll have another contest with another poem, though, so keep reading, my friends!

Love,

Poem Contest... An Unprecedented Part Deux

I have a little secret.  My first name ISN’T Caroline.  Oh no.  I have a first name, alright, but no one uses it, really. 

I know that SOME of you know my first name…. and y’all, I’m sorry, are not allowed to participate on this little thing here.  But those of you who don’t know, let’s see how well you can guess!

I’m going to give you some options.  You pick the one that you think is correct!  I will then, in return, write a poem that rhymes with your name, quite like I did with Josie’s.  I think this could be a fun weekly (or bi-weekly) contest.

Start your engines, folks!

Is my first name…

     1.  Ivy

     2.  Lucy

     3.  Rebecca

     4.  Sara

     5.  Jenna

     6.  Rachel

Get to guessing, people!  You have a few days (we’ll just see how many people comment).  If several people get the answer right, I’ll draw one of those people randomly out of a (metaphorical) hat. 

Have a great day!

And We Have a Winner

The winner of yesterday's mini-contest is.....

Josie!

She was the first to guess that no, I have never crashed a golf cart, because that would be incredibly difficult.  And also, she guessed I have not had two eye surgeries, because in reality, and get ready for some shock....

I've had three.  Long story short, I had a lazy eye that would just sort of wander around (I was very young) and they couldn't fix it.  The first two times flopped, but the third time stuck (pun completely intended.)  I now have near-perfect vision.  My last eye doctor was shocked, and I'm just happy I don't have to look like this anymore:

At least I knew how to accessorize.

My eyes were "fixed" then, but my vision was still bad.  Somehow, though, it just sort of healed itself in the past few years, and my far vision is 20/20.

Oh yeah, and I still sleep quite a bit, too.  They haven't been able to fix that.

And my hair?  I wanted to look like Velma from Scooby Doo.  I think I succeeded.  (Mom, why'd you let me do that to my hair??)

And without further ado, here is the (goofy) poem for Josie!

Josie, Josie,
Pretty as posies,
With flaxen hair,
And quite a flair.

Josie Hope,
You're not a dope
About your cheetah-print jacket
You made quite a racket.

I want one.

Josie Hope
Please don't mope
Even though this poem is strange
Even though most find me deranged

Josie, hon,
Congrats, you won!
You picked out the lies
And this poem's the prize

Josie, Josie,
Pretty as posies
You won, you won
And now I'm done


Bye, y'all, and have a nice day!

Love, and Loved, and Holy Light

A tapestry of blue

Blowing in the air

Whipping fro and to

A blanket of despair

Wind speeds quick

Storm clouds blow in

Out goes the wick

Slapping fabric makes a din

Words then pour from The Book

The candle flickers once again

If you see, once you look,

fire catches all we disdain

More words; small is the voice

But it overturns the lantern

once is made the choice

The tapestry catches; burn, burn, burn

Fear, anguish, pain, and fright

turn to ash in the flames

Love,and Loved, and Holy Light

No more death remains

All's gone still 

No sound can be heard

But for the fire that made death nil

The quiet voice that echoes the Word.

Christmas in Italy

Twinkling lights like golden embers

I always look forward to Decembers

Shimmers strung all down the lane

Blooming, burning like a flame

Cheeks aglow and heart on fire

Step by step, my soul lifts higher

Skillful street-players playing their music

My footsteps match the beat, be it slow or quick

Painters and dancers and singers and more

Window-shopping is never a chore

Staring into shops while a violinist plays

"La Vie en Rose" and my whole body sways

The streets in Italy are flooded with people

Around every corner rises a steeple

Walk in any church and you will find a scene

A scene of Nativity, surrounded with green

Christmas in Italy is pleasant and sweet

Getting broad smiles from storekeepers you meet

Bright lights and people, cold air in the street

Christmas in Italy is magic, so sweet.