Thanks to the wonderful world of Twitter it came to my attention it was National Poetry Day so I went in search of something lovely to share.
I could have chosen hundreds but this Shelley poem fitted my mood.
BY Percy Bysshe ShelleyThe fountains mingle with the riverAnd the rivers with the ocean,The winds of heaven mix for everWith a sweet emotion;Nothing in the world is single;All things by a law divineIn one spirit meet and mingle.Why not I with thine?—See the mountains kiss high heavenAnd the waves clasp one another;No sister-flower would be forgivenIf it disdained its brother;And the sunlight clasps the earthAnd the moonbeams kiss the sea:What is all this sweet work worthIf thou kiss not me?
The only poem I ever remember reading was one from an Edward Lear book my Dad gave me as a child, which I have in a box somewhere. We still recite bits of it from time to time so here’s The Owl and the Pussy-Cat by Edward Lear. Incidenatly
Incidentally I’ve seen a fair few pubs take their name from this poem 😉
Oh god, I’m getting a flashback to reading this poem in front of my GCSE English class when we did poetry and them all laughing at me for the use of the word… I’m sure you can guess. What was I thinking?! 😦
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat
IThe Owl and the Pussy-cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat,They took some honey, and plenty of money,Wrapped up in a five-pound note.The Owl looked up to the stars above,And sang to a small guitar,“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are,You are,You are!What a beautiful Pussy you are!”IIPussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!How charmingly sweet you sing!O let us be married! too long we have tarried:But what shall we do for a ring?”They sailed away, for a year and a day,To the land where the Bong-Tree growsAnd there in a wood a Piggy-wig stoodWith a ring at the end of his nose,His nose,His nose,With a ring at the end of his nose.III“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shillingYour ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”So they took it away, and were married next dayBy the Turkey who lives on the hill.They dined on mince, and slices of quince,Which they ate with a runcible spoon;And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,They danced by the light of the moon,The moon,The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.