Poem - post one when you read this!

[velvetpage]

As per athelind. I have loved this since I first came across it, at the age of about ten, before I even understood what it was about. The rhythm of it evokes the sound of waves lapping on a beach. Perhaps it's a bit depressing. I prefer to think of it as making beauty from the rhythm of life.

Crossing the Bar, Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.

Comments

[etherlad.livejournal.com]

Pudding, pudding
Soft and sweet
It is pudding
I like to eat

Pudding, pudding
Chocolate, lime
I could eat pudding
For all time

Pudding, pudding
In a tub
Scuba diving
Glub glub glub

Pudding, pudding
'Tween my toes
Its aroma
Caresses my nose

Pudding, pudding
On my tongue
My only sorrow
I'm almost done

Pudding, pudding
In my tum
How I loved you
Yum yum yum

Corollary to "Ode to Pudding"

[etherlad.livejournal.com]

Pudding poem
In my head
You won't rest
Until I'm dead

[velvetpage.livejournal.com]

Good lord.

Well, I suppose I needed to lighten things up. :)

[sassy-fae.livejournal.com]

*LMAO at Ian's favourite two poems* Yes, he wrote them himself, many many years ago :D

Interesting note on "Crossing the Bar" (from my Victorian poetry class). Tennyson would allow his poems to be published, as long as crossing the bar was included as the last poem. He felt strongly about its worth as well :)

[sassy-fae.livejournal.com]

My favourite poem would probably have to be Intimations of Immortality. I had a completely amazing English prof for several classes, including Romantic Poetry. He gave every poem we studied a rich explanation, but this one stood above most for me. My favourite part is the oft quoted fifth stanza, containing

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

[velvetpage.livejournal.com]

It's the last in the book of poems I've got, too. I see it as a kind of benediction. I suppose that's what it was intended to be.