Subject of Poetry- September Contest of the Month
A word fitly spoken is music to the ears, emotion to the soul, even a bright star to which we fix our gaze. Poetry can be severely powerful and it can also be dangerously fragile. Emily Dickinson said, “If I read a book and it makes my body so cold no fire could ever warm me, I know that it is poetry”. Poetry to me is like a chiseled marble of language and by allowing its words to take root in our heart and mind, it can enliven our sensitivity to life’s meanings and purpose. I have great respect for those great poets such as Faust, Shakespeare, Frost, Austen, Whitman, and Twain, to name a few, who have mastered the written language. There talent is truly wondrous and boggles my mind. – See more at: http://www.tigerscursebook.com/blog/p...
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A word fitly spoken is music to the ears, emotion to the soul, even a bright star to which we fix our gaze. Poetry can be severely powerful and it can also be dangerously fragile. Emily Dickinson said, “If I read a book and it makes my body so cold no fire could ever warm me, I know that it is poetry.”
Poetry to me is like a chiseled marble of language and by allowing its words to take root in our heart and mind, it can enliven our sensitivity to life’s meanings and purpose. I have great respect for those great poets such as Faust, Shakespeare, Austen, Whitman, and Twain, to name a few, who have mastered the language. Their talent is truly wondrous and boggles my mind.
Poets are unrelentingly carefully in selecting the perfect words for preciseness and clarity. While it is not uncommon for writers to write “poetically” in general, poets go well beyond the reasonable. The poet considers a word’s emotive qualities, its musical value, its spacing, and even its spacial relationship to the page. They create a masterpiece in every sense of the word.
I’d like to share a poem from one of my favorite poets, Robert Frost.
Pray to what earth does this sweet cold belong,
Which asks no duties and no conscience?
The moon goes up by leaps, her cheerful path
In some far summer stratum of the sky,
While stars with their cold shine bedot her way.
The fields gleam mildly back upon the sky,
And far and near upon the leafless shrubs
The snow dust still emits a silver light.
Under the hedge, where drift banks are their screen,
The titmice now pursue their downy dreams,
As often in the sweltering summer nights
The bee doth drop asleep in the flower cup,
When evening overtakes him with his load.
By the brooksides, in the still, genial night,
The more adventurous wanderer may hear
The crystals shoot and form, and winter slow
Increase his rule by gentlest summer means
Many of you have a shared interest in reading and writing with Colleen and so for this contest we’d like to reward our top two favorite poems written by YOU with a Writer’s Prize Package put together with you in mind!
Here are a few guidelines;
1- The subject is nature (You can interpret this any way you’d like!) Please no longer than one page.
2-Must be YOUR writing and you must give permission to post it (if you are the lucky winner) on this website.
3- Must be submitted by September 30th at midnight PST. Submit all entries to colleenhouckcontests@gmail.com
Reach high, dream deep, and dare to write from your heart! Good luck everyone! – See more at: http://www.tigerscursebook.com/blog/p...
So, without further ado, “let your imagination bud forth and give form of things unknown, the poet’s pen, and turn them to shapes which gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name”~ William Shakespeare. –
Reach high, dream deep, and dare to write from the heart! Good luck everyone!
~ Linda Louise Lotti
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