tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17019672.post4115741520046288384..comments2024-03-25T02:43:49.115-05:00Comments on Karen Edmisten: Poetry Friday: He's Never About Just the ApplesKaren Edmisten http://www.blogger.com/profile/04446214835142625161noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17019672.post-34544357139022837832010-11-03T08:20:37.816-05:002010-11-03T08:20:37.816-05:00Oh, Mary, thanks for that sweet ... bittersweet .....Oh, Mary, thanks for that sweet ... bittersweet ... comment. May she rest in peace. <br /><br />Thanks, all, for your comments, too. And Lissa, I missed being at KidLitCon, too! Maybe next time ....Karen Edmisten https://www.blogger.com/profile/04446214835142625161noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17019672.post-42703775112504053852010-11-02T11:26:05.467-05:002010-11-02T11:26:05.467-05:00I was in the kitchen cutting up a Jonathon apple, ...I was in the kitchen cutting up a Jonathon apple, the smell brought my childhood back in a rush of memories. Mom. Then I opened my laptop while still crunching, checked your blog...It certainly is more than just the apples. <br /><br />Mary Edmisten KrutaAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17019672.post-68926089009102716092010-10-30T07:04:57.034-05:002010-10-30T07:04:57.034-05:00I have a recording of Frost reading this and now I...I have a recording of Frost reading this and now I can hear his voice when I read it. <br /><br />I think of these lines<br />"My instep arch not only keeps the ache,<br />It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round."<br />whenever I can't get past something that I've been doing or that has happened. <br /><br />I shake my finger at myself when <br />"I am overtired<br />Of the great harvest I myself desired."<br /><br />This is all to say that this is one (of many) of Frost's poems that has become a part of me.Mary Leehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09078793537148794310noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17019672.post-79901623863341509762010-10-29T22:18:22.979-05:002010-10-29T22:18:22.979-05:00Lord but he's rich. I think I love this poem o...Lord but he's rich. I think I love this poem of his in particular because he himself is so like eating an apple: the tart, the sweet, the crisp bite, the savoring. <br /><br />"I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight"---oh!<br /><br />MISSED having you at KidlitCon, my dear!Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07315947967701781840noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17019672.post-69460430711823560512010-10-29T09:57:54.529-05:002010-10-29T09:57:54.529-05:00This poem is uncanny. The images are both quiet an...This poem is uncanny. The images are both quiet and disquieting. Frost distills autumn to perfection.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10147284664183496856noreply@blogger.com