Well, let the repeats begin a day early. I have a request for “hope” on this most hope – filled night of the year. So, it must be dear Emily. Happy New Year’s Eve.
from “Hope” is the thing with feathers / by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
For frozen mist and wavering flakes, from poetryfoundation.org.
from The Snow-Shower / by William Cullen Bryant
For 15-degree football games and other ways to witness winter, from poetryfoundation.org.
from This Inwardness, This Ice / by Christian Wiman, b. 1966
For parents, teachers, and parent-teachers, and anyone who teaches anyone any one valuable thing, from poetryfoundation.org.
from On Education / by Elizabeth Bentley, December 1789
What? No Coleridge? This is the four-day countdown to end the run of no repeats. Beginning 1/1/16, I will no longer seek a new poet each day, but will pull favorite fragments willy nilly; I think I will have made it through two years of no individual poet repeats, except for Christmas Eve’s Moore and the days we lost Tate and Strand. This one’s for the last week of my favorite month, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Fragment 3: Come, come thou bleak December / by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Come, come thou bleak December wind,
And blow the dry leaves from the tree!
For bent trees flies and bees, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Resolution / by Paul Violi (1944-2011)
For Gabriellan trumpets and beaches on Christmas Day, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Conches on Christmas / by Mike Chasar
An essential repeat, from poetryfoundation.org. Merry day.
from A Visit from St. Nicholas / by Clement Clarke Moore
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there
For the season and its greenery, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Mistletoe / by Walter de la Mare
Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.
For the 9th day of Christmas, maybe, if this is how it’s counted, from poetryfoundation.org. And, a happy belated Hanukkah, and a happy upcoming Kwanzaa!
from The Twelve Days of Christmas / by Anonymous
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