Thursday, January 14, 2010

Okay, two Milly Jourdain poems today. Poem #1 shows why she drives me nuts. Poem #2 shows why I'm doing this copying project. Try to write a better poem than Poem #2. You could, but it would be hard.

A Dream Journey

Milly Jourdain

The rain is falling cold and grey,
But spring is in the air;
And thinking of a warmer land
I wish that I were there.

I see around me in the grass,
Like stars of tender blue,
The little crocus growing wild
And making all things new.

I lie upon a sun-warmed hill
And thundering hear the waves below,
A breath from hidden violets
Comes when the wind doth blow.

Anemones with coloured heads
And hidden deep-black eyes
Are growing near the glimpse of sea,
Whose slow noise never dies.

At last I wake in evening light
And hear the sky-larks sing
Above the fields all glistening-wet
And green with early spring.

"The Floods Are Risen . . . "

Milly Jourdain

The great white sea has flooded all the land,
And little waves are blown against the path
With tiny sounds like dry and restless throbs:
A white-sailed boat skims like a frightened moth
Into the dusk: the grey clouds grow darker
And dim the yellow light; we turn and leave
The cold wind blowing on the ruffled sea.

A poem like this second one leaves me thinking: what could she have been, this writer, if the cards had been stacked otherwise? Oh, that boat skimming like a frightened moth. I see it in my dreams.


Ruth said...

I especially like
With tiny sounds like dry and restless throbs:
the ruffled sea.

Dawn Potter said...

I like that ruffled sea too.

charlotte gordon said...

So what was she like? how were the cards stacked? Tell me. Where is this essay???
impatiently yours

Dawn Potter said...

It's in the email to you, CG.