I will post a complete review soon, but today is not the "soon" of which I speak.
For today, I'll just mention that in one of the loveliest essays in the book, Mike talks about his daughter, Mary Agnes, a poet from her toddler days forward. She reminds me of my little poet, Ramona, who has shared her verse with the world here and here.
Mary Agnes has a poet's soul, to be sure, and her father quotes a few lines from a poem that I absolutely love. I'll expound later on how he uses these lines so effectively in this essay, but for today, I'll simply share the poem with you.
Have a lovely poetry Friday.
(And, if you're wondering just what Poetry Friday is, and how it got started, please visit Susan at Chicken Spaghetti and read her explanation here, which explains how Kelly, at Big A little a, started Poetry Friday.)
And, now ... on to that incredible little poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins:
Spring and Fall
to a young child
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By & by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep & know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
Visit A Wrung Sponge for the rest of today's Poetry Friday round-up. She had the brilliant idea of presenting it with a Mr. Linky box, so if you have a post to add, just click on "You're next" and you're in!
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