Friday, March 31, 2006

April is the coolest month

T.S. Eliot wrote some prime stuff, but he totally lost me with this assertion:

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

All that breeding, mixing, and stirring is just fine with me. And with April's arrival, the daffodils in my front garden will finally awaken and begin their delightful annual dance, prompting me to go around chanting a certain poem by William Wordsworth.

Have you ever tried writing a poem? Anyone can do it, as I discovered to my delight a year ago this week, when I wrote one quite by accident. Like writing fiction, no special talent is required for you to enjoy the process, and if the results please you, who's to say that what you're writing isn't any good?

April is National Poetry Month. So if there are any poems in you, why not think about setting them free?


Angie said...

I memorized that poem in 10th grade British Literature. What a nice memory! :)

Josie said...

April is the cruelest month...

Those few words bring tears to my eyes for some reason. Love that poem so much...

Praying for your Prodigal said...

I just "set free" the last poem I wrote....on my blog--the entry is entitle More Joy! It was written in honor of my only daughter's wedding. :)


Brenda Coulter said...

Glad to see you all getting in the spirit of National Poetry Month. And Diane, I bet your daughter will treasure your poem all her life. What a lovely thing to do.