I decided that, to celebrate the month, I'd share one of my favorite poems. It's a poem about a poet writing poetry, which seems entirely appropriate.
In My Craft or Sullen Art
In my craft or
sullen art
Exercised in the
still night
When only the
moon rages
And the lovers
lie abed
With all their
griefs in their arms,
I labour by
singing light
Not for ambition
or bread
Or the strut and
trade of charms
On the ivory
stages
But for the
common wages
Of their most
secret heart.
Not for the proud
men apart
From the raging moon
I write
On these
spindrift pages
Nor for the
towering dead
With their
nightingales and psalms
But for the
lovers, their arms
Round the griefs
of the ages,
Who pay no praise
nor wages
Nor heed my craft
or art.
- Dylan Thomas
1 comment:
I love poetry. I wish I could spend more time reading it, although I think it's better in doses, at least to my untrained, undisciplined mind. Also, now I know a new word. I'd never heard "spindrift" before. What I love about poetry is that it's such a beautiful, expressive way (and when it's a favorite, also a more intelligent way) to say something. But not just say something, say more than one thing. I don't know if that makes sense, but it's late. Anyway, thanks for sharing. I hadn't read that one before.
When I tried typing in the ridiculous letters to prove I'm not a robot, the autocorrect tried to change it to "vomit ye". Hehe.
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