Thursday, January 5, 2012


On the Grasshopper and Cricket

The Poetry of earth is never dead:    
  When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,    
  And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run    
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;    
That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead      
  In summer luxury,—he has never done    
  With his delights; for when tired out with fun    
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.    
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:    
  On a lone winter evening, when the frost     
    Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills    
The Cricket’s song, in warmth increasing ever,    
  And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,    
    The Grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.
That line - "The poetry of earth is ceasing never:" reminds me that
the gray, iron-hard lack of life is only a deep repose, and that we
will again hear spring peepers trilling in our woods.
I asked myself why I've been including a poem each day - at first I
had no answer, but then I realized that it is a way to express
my state of mind, as well as to share beautifully written and
juxtaposed words. I earned a BA in English Literature...some people
might think that a waste of time, but I'm grateful for the love of
words I found.
Spinning: No progress today...
Knitting: Still plugging away on Noro Sock #2. Getting increasingly
worried about running short on yarn... 
Exercise: 30 minutes of free weights; 20 minutes of bicycling

No comments:

Post a Comment

I hope you're enjoying my ramblings!