Poetry: April 19, 2023 Issue [#11920] |
This week: Lewis Carroll Edited by: Stormy Lady More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady |
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A Boat beneath a Sunny Sky
by Lewis Carroll
A Boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear --
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream --
Lingering in the golden dream --
Life, what is it but a dream?
THE END
Lewis Carroll was born Charles Dodgson. He was born on January 27, 1832, in Daresbury, United Kingdom to Charles Dodgson and Frances Lutwidge. Charles Senior was a clergyman and had an English title of Perpetual Curate of Daresbury. The family lived in a quiet rural village. Carroll was the third of eleven children. He was very shy and turned to writing stories at a young age. When he turned fourteen he was sent to an elite boarding school, Rugby School in Warwickshire. Carroll was an excellent student who excelled in mathematics. He went on to study at Christ Church College at the University of Oxford. Sadly shortly after starting college his mother passed away.
Carroll got his degree in mathematics in 1854 and went on to lecture and teach at the school, despite having a stutter. He often taught wearing gray and black gloves to hide his hands. He was involved with the Christ Church College in one way or another for the rest of his life. In 1856 Charles Dodgson started writing under the pen name Lewis Carroll. In the summer of 1864 while on a picnic Carroll started telling a story of Alive Liddell, who died in 1934. She was the daughter of the head of Oxford College. These stories are said to be where Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was born. In 1865 Carroll published” “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, followed by the sequel, “Through the Looking Glass” in 1871. The sequel had Carroll’s most famous poems in it, Jabberwocky and The Walrus and the Carpenter.
Lewis Carroll never married.He was ordained a deacon in the Church of England on December 22, 1861. As part of his orders, he took a vow of celibacy. In 1868 Lewis' father passed away, this sent Carroll into a state of depression. He was now the oldest living male in his family and so he had the responsibilities for caring for six younger unwed sisters. In 1869 Carroll published a book of nonsense poems that appeared under two different titles, Phantasmagoria and Rhyme? And Reason? His last major work of nonsense fiction was The Hunting of the Snark, a long nonsense poem published in 1876. He also published " Euclid and His Modern Rivals” in 1879. “A Tangled Tale" in 1885. “Alice's Adventures Under-Ground” was published in 1886 followed by “The Game of Logic” in 1887.
Carroll resigned from his position at the College in 1881. “A Tangled Tale" was published in 1885.Then he published “Alice's Adventures Under-Ground” in 1886 followed by “The Game of Logic” in 1887. Carroll continued to write and publish up until his death. In 1896 Carrol published the first half of “Symbolic Logic”. Lewis Carroll passed away on January 14, 1898, from pneumonia at his sisters' home in Guildford. Carroll is buried at Mount Cemetery in Guildford. The second part of his “Symbolic Logic” was published posthumously.
All In The Golden Afternoon by Lewis Carroll
All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little arms are plied,
While little hands make vain pretense
Our wanderings to guide.
Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour,
Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather!
Yet what can one poor voice avail
Against three tongues together?
Imperious Prima flashes forth
Her edict to "begin it"--
In gentler tones Secunda hopes
"There will be nonsense in it"--
While Tertia interrupts the tale
Not more than once a minute.
Anon, to sudden silence won,
In fancy they pursue
The dream-child moving through a land
Of wonders wild and new,
In friendly chat with bird or beast--
And half believe it true.
And ever, as the story drained
The wells of fancy dry,
And faintly strove that weary one
To put the subject by,
"The rest next time"--"It is next time!"
The happy voices cry.
Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out--
And now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.
Alice! a childish story take,
And with a gentle hand
Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined
In Memory's mystic band,
Like pilgrim's withered wreath of flowers
Plucked in a far-off land.
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 maxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.
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.
"Has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! 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.
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
"Spring's Dawn"
Spring's Dawn
Peeking from my kitchen window,
waiting for the sun to rise.
Swaying branches keep time
with the gurgling coffee pot.
A rhythmic beeping wakes me from a trance
with the good news that coffee is ready.
I fill my favorite mug, inhale deeply
and head out to the yard.
Just in time to see the sunshine arrive,
streaming through the palm tree fronds.
The morning dew tickles my toes
as I step upon the wet, green grass.
The parrots caw, and the bluebirds sing
their sweet, cheerful greetings to the day.
Today their offerings sound so much sweeter though,
on this first dawn of Spring.
Honorable mention:
"I Prayed for the Rain"
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