Monday, February 27, 2012

I have two tiny Milly Jourdain poems to share with you today. If you're a newish visitor to this blog and wonder who she might be and why I'm posting her poems, go the archive to find out. Then leave a comment here and tell me whether or not you think this is a worthwhile project. If you're not a newish visitor and already have an opinion, you can leave a comment too.


September Dawn


Milly Jourdain


The blue dark of my windows fades away
And over all a flood of colder light
Is softly spreading,
Till through the mist I see the dull red leaves.

The pure, chill air of dawn blows on my face,
And in the room the sheets grow white again.

A robin's song drops in the quiet air
So sad and fresh and incomplete.


The Sea Fog


Milly Jourdain


The fields below me are sodden and gray and the fog has blurred the line of the hills.

I sit by the hedge and think that every year the darkness will grow closer around me.

The fog has crept up and all is a sea of whiteness;
My face is wet with its gentle touch, and I can only see a few steps in front of me on the road.

3 comments:

Ruth said...

I'm happy that you are involved in this project. I would not know anything about Milly Jourdain otherwise. In September Dawn, I especially like the image of the first 3 lines. The last 2 lines make me sad; however, I like the idea of a song dropping. The Sea Fog is uneven for me. The best lines are "I sit by the hedge and think that every year the darkness will grow closer around me." They make me want to hug her

rss said...

I love these poems of Milly Jourdain. Does Milly's natural intelligence figure somewhere in your "roiling brainful of ideas about...the class...[you]...called "Growing Up"?

Dawn Potter said...

Good idea. I should add her in.