My Lovely Student

Lovely Kristen

My Dear Friend

Zach you are the best

Bitter Sweet November

"My November Guest" by Robert Frost

I could say that Frost is perhaps one of my favorite poets. In this poem, in particular he speaks of his sorrow. His sorrow is referred to as "she". He welcomes her as a short-time guest of the season. Yet, he speaks of the beauty "she" brings with her:

. . .Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane . . .
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so ryly sees,. . .

His Sorrow wants him to see the beauty in all that is bare.

Besides the fact that it really reminds me of fave song ever, "November Rain" by Guns N' Roses.

Images: fc01.deviantart.com/fs24/f/2008/029/e/6/So_ne.

Infamous Love

"How do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)" by Elizabeth Barrette Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

This is a powerful sonnet. As I read; this poem evokes childhood memories of innocence and puppy love. I can feel the soft velvet daisy pedals on my fingertips sever them from their life stem. I whisper, "he loves me, he loves me not...he loves me".

Images: farm4.static.flickr.com/3309/3587737054_c03ee...

How much I love Thee. . .

Anne Bradstreet, "To My Dear and Loving Husband"

This poem takes me back to my wedding day, six years ago. I gave this poem as a wedding favor to all of my guests. I made scrolls out of parchment and wooden rods and hand tied it with twine.

It was not the gift that really mattered, but what the poem meant to me. How I wanted everyone in the world to know my love for my husband; the devotion I have for him; how much I prized his love for me and I for him.

"...I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.

My love is such that Rivers cannot quench..."

images: i66.photobucket.com/.../Love/love8.jpg