Last Sunday while listening to a talk on the topic of mindfulness, Cecilia Kingman said that, listening to poetry during times of uncertainty helped her alleviate stress. Cecilia elaborated by sharing her belief that
poems have the power to ease our minds and bring us back to the present.
Her insightful observations replenished me, so I thought I’d introduce some poetry for book lovers.
Notes On The Art Of Poetry
by Dylan Thomas
I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-on
in the world between the covers of books,
such sandstorms and ice blasts of words,
such staggering peace, such enormous laughter,
such and so many blinding bright lights,
splashing all over the pages
in a million bits and pieces
all of which were words, words, words,
and each of which were alive forever
in its own delight and glory and oddity and light.
What is a book?
By Lora Daunt
A book is pages, pictures and words
A book is animals, people and birds
A book is stories of queens and kings
Poems and songs, so many things!
Curled in a corner where I can hide
With a book I can journey far and wide
Though it’s only paper from end to end
A book is a very special friend.
A Book
by Emily Dickinson
He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings!
My Book
By Anette Wynne
A little gate my book can be
That leads to fields of minstrelsy,
And though you think I sit at home
Afar in foreign fields I roam.
Adventure
by Helen Cowles LeCron
They called it just a book. It came
At Christmas with the other things.
They called it just a book . . . To me,
An eager child, it seemed to be
A great white ship that sailed the sea—
A ship with silver wings!
They called it just a book, and said
‘Twas mine to keep. They never knew
How far from home I fared that year—
To palm-fringed beaches, white and queer,
Where swaggered many a buccaneer,
And opal dreams came true!
A book . . . They never knew.
The Way to Travel
by Anonymous
Some people travel in their autos,
Some travel in the railway cars;
But I’ve a better way to travel,
Unbroken by your bolts and jars—
A better way than horse or cycle,
Than biplane, steamer, or canoe;
The quite ideal way to travel
To Patterson or Timbuctoo.
My way is swift as any eagle,
Or tarries for a steady look—
The way of greatest ease and comfort:
To wit, I travel with a book.
I dread no storms, I mock at danger,
I reach the farthest, know the near;
I pierce the desert and the jungle,
Without the tremor of a fear.
I find the wisest of companions,
I get the sagest of advice,
And all my travelling is buttressed
With comforts of the highest price.
What is the best of travel volumes,
For highway, byway, hidden nook?
The book with which I choose to journey?
Of course it is the pocketbook!
Where My Books Go
By William Butler Yeats
All the words that I utter,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm-darken’d or starry bright
Are you a fan of reading or reciting poetry? Who is your favorite poet? Do you think poetry alleviates anxiety? Have you tried writing a poem of your own?
