National Poetry Month - Part 2

Group member Chrissy McVay says this is one of her favorite poems as she is reminded of it every time she embarks on a new journey. I too have a fondness for this one, and am lucky enough to have a recording of Frost himself reading it. Enjoy. ~SB

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

National Poetry Month - Part 1

Our first featured poem for National Poetry Month was sent to me by group e-member Ron Johnson. He didn't say why he likes it, but I know why I like it. It's a fun poem written about a cat. How perfect is that? ~SB

Macavity: The Mystery Cat

By T.S. Eliot

Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw -

For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.

He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the flying Squad's despair:

For when they reach the scene of crime - Macavity's not there!

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,

He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.

His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,

And when you reach the scene of crime - Macavity's not there!

You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air -

But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!

Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;

You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.

His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;

His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.

He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;

And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,

For he's a friend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.

You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square -

But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!

He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)

And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.

And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,

Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,

Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair -

Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!

And when the Foreign Office finds a Treaty's gone astray,

Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,

There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair -

But it's useless to investigate - Macavity's not there!

And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:

"It must have been Macavity!" - but he's a mile away.

You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,

Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,

There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.

He always has an alibi, or one or two to spare:

And whatever time the deed took place - MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!

And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known

(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat, who all the time

Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!

A Favorite Poem

Next month is National Poetry Month. May not mean much to some, but to poets in particular, and writers in general, it can mean a lot. For this blog, it means I'm going to post some favorite poems throughout the month. I will get with members of the group and find out their favorite poems and see if I can post them here, along with any comments the member has about why it's one of their favorites.

Now, I know April is a few days away yet, but I'm going to go ahead and share this, my all-time favorite poem. I first discovered it in high school and have been a big Edgar Allan Poe fan ever since, with this being my favorite work of his. Every time I read this poem, I can feel it in my heart. -Susan Bell-


Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.