 Poetry: September 26, 2012 Issue [#5279] |
  Poetry
This week: Joyce Kilmer Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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Trees by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Alfred Joyce Kilmer was born in New Brunswick, New Jersey in the year 1886. Joyce always went by his middle name, never using his first name. He attended Rutgers College and Columbia University. After graduating he was a teacher for a short time. Joyce then turned his focus to journalism in 1909. In 1909 he started working as an editor on "The Standard Dictionary" staff. He worked there until 1912. After that he became a writer for the "New York Times Sunday Magazine."
During this time, Joyce Kilmer regularly contributed to poetry magazines, including his poem "Summer of Love" published in 1911. It was in the August of 1913 that his most famous poem “Trees” was published. It was in 1914 that Joyce Kilmer published his first book of poetry “Trees and Other Poems" After that in 1917 his book of poems entitled "Main Street, and other Poems" was published.
By the time America declared war on Germany Joyce Kilmer had married Aline and was a family man, which would have allowed Kilmer not to be required to serve. Despite his age and family status he decided to volunteer for service anyways. He was a private in the Seventh Regiment, New York National Guard. He quickly moved up to Sergeant, and then became a part of the Regimental Intelligence staff as an observer. Here he spent many nights gathering information of tactical importance and relayed it to the appropriate people. This kept him out of front line combat but this wasn’t how Joyce wanted to help. Joyce Kilmer could not stand by and on July 30, 1918, Kilmer fought at the Battle of the Ourcq River alongside his fellow comrades. It was there a sniper's bullet ended this poet’s life at 31 years of age.
Joyce Kilmer was awarded the French Croix de Guerre for bravery. In memory of Joyce, Camp Kilmer in New Jersey carries the poet’s name.
"Memorial Day." By Joyce Kilmer
(written before his departure over seas in 1917)
The bugle echoes shrill and sweet,
But not of war it sings today.
The road is rhythmic with the feet
Of men-at-arms who come to pray.
The rose blossoms white and red
On tombs where weary soldiers lie;
Flags wave above the honored dead
And martial music cleaves the sky.
Above their wreath-strewn graves we kneel,
They kept the faith and fought the fight.
Through flying lead and crimson steel
They plunged for Freedom and the Right.
May we, their grateful children, learn
Their strength, who lie beneath this sod,
Who went through fire and death to earn
At last the accolade of God.
In shining rank on rank arrayed,
They march, the legions of the Lord;
He is their Captain unafraid,
The Prince of Peace. . . who brought a sword.
As Winds That Blow Against A Star
By Joyce Kilmer
Now by what whim of wanton chance
Do radiant eyes know sombre days?
And feet that shod in light should dance
Walk weary and laborious ways?
But rays from Heaven, white and whole,
May penetrate the gloom of earth;
And tears but nourish, in your soul,
The glory of celestial mirth.
The darts of toil and sorrow, sent
Against your peaceful beauty, are
As foolish and as impotent
As winds that blow against a star.
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
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#1892724 by Not Available. |
AUTUMN IS NEAR.
A mantle of wool warms these old shoulders
from the chill felt that the Autumn wind brings.
Fiddle Ferns have dried by the brook boulders
along with flowers, vines and other things.
Autumn is just one of four fine seasons
that by Gods grace is given from above
and is just one more of many reasons
why I wish to rush to the one I love.
Warmth and tenderness will beat the cold air
that comes even colder with evening.
Warmer at home and I want to be there
and not outside about the cold grieving.
10 Syllables - 12 lines - ABAB Scheme.
Honorable mention:
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These are the rules:
1) You must use the words I give in a poem or prose with no limits on length.
2) The words can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem and can be any form of the word.
3) All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum, "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] by October 20, 2012.
4) The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post (October 26, 2012)
The words are: scarlet, write, passion, intensify, touch, tears, velvet, pen
 Good luck to all
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