Terrific Two of the Week: 10/26-10/30/09

Pin It

So many intriguing poems by various poets have been covered this week. Here is a recap, and my two favorite poems of the week. What were YOURS? Which poets are your favorites?  Leave a comment with your  thoughts, and let me know which classic you would like to see. The two, terrific poems of the week for me were:

--A Mountain Spring and Clenched Soul--

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated daily. Simply subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. You will treasure getting daily poetry in your mail! Please continue reading the Recap below. Just click on the titles to access the poems:

 ----------------------------------

October 26, 2009

Fairy Song
--Description: 19th C, Alcott L.M., Children, Fantasy, Nature--

October 27, 2009

After Apple Picking
--Description: 20th C, Frost R., Dream, Illusion, Nature--

October 28, 2009

A Mountain Spring
--Description: 19th C, Kendall H.C., Love, Nature--

October 29, 2009

They Went Home
--Description: 21st C, Angelou M., Disillusion, Humanity, Life--

October 30, 2009

Clenched Soul
--Description: 20th C, Neruda P., Love, Sorrow--

--------------------------------------

Weekend Haiku:

"Goblins, ghosts flit by
Feathered wings and macabre grins
Ghostly calls and sighs."


V. Mahfood
--------------------------------------

--Word of the Day:galumph \guh-LUHM(P)F\, intransitive verb:
To move in a clumsy manner or with a heavy tread.
Example:
Then he climbed up the little iron ladder that led to the wharf's cap, placed me once more upon his shoulders and galumphed off again.
-Alistair MacLeod, Island: The Complete Stories

--Quote of the Day:
"He who has faith has... an inward reservoir of courage, hope, confidence, calmness, and assuring trust that all will come out well - even though to the world it may appear to come out most badly."
~B. C. Forbes

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Related articles by Zemanta

• Scribes of eternity (guardian.co.uk)

Pin It

They Went Home

Pin It

May this poem give thought your day!



--Description: 21st C, Angelou M., Disillusion, Humanity, Life--

They went home and told their wives,
that never once in all their lives,
had they known a girl like me,
But... They went home.

They said my house was licking clean,
no word I spoke was ever mean,
I had an air of mystery,
But... They went home.

My praises were on all men's lips,
they liked my smile, my wit, my hips,
they'd spend one night, or two or three.
But...

Maya Angelou

--Did You Know: born Marguerite Ann Johnson on April 4, 1928), Angelou is an American autobiographer and poet who has been called "America's most visible black female autobiographer" by scholar Joanne M. Braxton. She is best known for her series of six autobiographical volumes, which focus on her childhood and early adulthood experiences. The first, best-known, and most highly acclaimed, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969), focuses on the first seventeen years of her life, brought her international recognition, and was nominated for a National Book Award. Angelou has had a long and varied career, holding jobs such as fry cook, dancer, actress, journalist, educator, television producer, and film director. She was a member of the Harlem Writers Guild in the late 1950s. She was active in the Civil Rights movement, and served as Northern Coordinator of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Angelou has been highly honored for her body of work, including being awarded over 30 honorary degrees.

--Word of the Day: perorate \PUR-uh-rayt\, intransitive verb:
1. To conclude or sum up a long discourse.
2. To speak or expound at length; to declaim.
Example:
These people don't talk, they perorate, pontificate, bombast.
-Jean Charbonneau, "Biographer's quest becomes self-searching journey", Denver Post, January 28, 2001

--Quote of the Day: The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing.
-Marcus Aurelius

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Posted by V. Mahfood

Related articles by Zemanta

• Coretta Scott by Ntozake Shange (mediabistro.com)

Pin It

Fairy Song

Pin It

This fanciful poem will charm your day!



--Description: 19th C, Alcott L.M., Children, Fantasy, Nature--

The moonlight fades from flower and rose
And the stars dim one by one;
The tale is told, the song is sung,
And the Fairy feast is done.
The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers,
And sings to them, soft and low.
The early birds erelong will wake:
'T is time for the Elves to go.

O'er the sleeping earth we silently pass,
Unseen by mortal eye,
And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float
Through the quiet moonlit sky;--
For the stars' soft eyes alone may see,
And the flowers alone may know,
The feasts we hold, the tales we tell;
So't is time for the Elves to go.

From bird, and blossom, and bee,
We learn the lessons they teach;
And seek, by kindly deeds, to win
A loving friend in each.
And though unseen on earth we dwell,
Sweet voices whisper low,
And gentle hearts most joyously greet
The Elves where'er they go.

When next we meet in the Fairy dell,
May the silver moon's soft light
Shine then on faces gay as now,
And Elfin hearts as light.
Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky
With sunlight soon shall glow.
The morning star shall light us home:
Farewell! for the Elves must go.

Louisa May Alcott

--Did You Know: (November 29, 1832 – March 6, 1888) Alcott was an American novelist. She is best known for the novel Little Women, written and set in the Alcott family home, Orchard House in Concord, Massachusetts and published in 1868. This novel is loosely based on her childhood experiences with her three sisters.Alcott was the daughter of noted transcendentalist and educator Amos Bronson Alcott and Abigail May Alcott. She shared a birthday with her father on November 29. In a letter to his brother-in-law, Samuel Joseph May, a noted abolitionist, her father wrote: "It is with great pleasure that I announce to you the birth of my second daughter...born about half-past 12 this morning, on my [33rd] birthday." Though of New England heritage, she was born in Germantown, which is currently part of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She was the second of four daughters; Anna Bronson Alcott was the eldest, Elizabeth Sewall Alcott and Abigail May Alcott were the two youngest. The family moved to Boston in 1834. After the family moved to Massachusetts, her father established an experimental school and joined the Transcendental Club with Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau.

--Word of the Day: milieu \meel-YUH; meel-YOO\, noun;
plural milieus or milieux \-(z)\:
Environment; setting.
Example:
These were agricultural areas, populated with prosperous farming families and rural artisans -- a completely different milieu from the Monferrands', which was more closed, more cultured, but less affluent.
-Antoine de Baecque and Serge Toubiana, Truffaut

--Quote of the Day: I always liked the magic of poetry but now I'm just starting to see behind the curtain of even the best poets, how they've used, tried and tested craft to create the illusion. Wonderful feeling of exhilaration to finally be there.
-David Knopfler

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Posted by V. Mahfood

Related articles by Zemanta

• Edgar Allan Poe to be finally given proper funeral (telegraph.co.uk)

Pin It

Terrific Two of the Week: 10/19-10/23/09

Pin It

So many intriguing poems by various poets have been covered this week. Here is a recap, and my two favorite poems of the week. What were YOURS? Which poets are your favorites?  Leave a comment with your  thoughts, and let me know which classic you would like to see. The two, terrific poems of the week for me were:

--Rum Tum Tugger and Bell Birds--

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated daily. Simply subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. You will treasure getting daily poetry in your mail! Please continue reading the Recap below. Just click on the titles to access the poems:

 ----------------------------------

October 19, 2009

My Shadow
--Description: 19th C, Stevenson R.L., Childhood, Children, Dreams, Humor--

October 20, 2009

The Garden of Love
--Description: 19th C, Blake W., Life, Love, Death--

October 21, 2009

Bell Birds
--Description: 19th C, Kendall H., Nature, Seasons--

October 22, 2009

Nature, The Gentlest Mother
--Description: 19th C, Dicksinson E., Nature--

October 23, 2009

Rum Tum Tugger
--Description: 20th C, Eliot T.S., Children, Humor, Nature--

--------------------------------------

Weekend Haiku:

"Weekend joy abounds
Happy voices making plans
Joyful children play.


V. Mahfood
--------------------------------------


--Word of the Day:scuttlebutt \SKUHT-l-buht\, noun:
1. A drinking fountain on a ship.
2. A cask on a ship that contains the day's supply of drinking water.
3. Informal. Gossip; rumor.
Example:
What were they talking about? Sports? Neighborhood scuttlebutt? Off-color jokes? I didn't know; I knew only how exciting it was to see Dad in action.
-Eric Liu, The Accidental Asian

--Quote of the Day:
A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.
~Robert Frost

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Related articles by Zemanta

• Scribes of eternity (guardian.co.uk)

Pin It

The Rum Tum Tugger

Pin It

May this adorable poem tickle your Friday!



--Description: 20th C, Eliot T.S., Children, Humor, Nature--

The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat:
If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse.
If you put him in a house he would much prefer a flat,
If you put him in a flat then he'd rather have a house.
If you set him on a mouse then he only wants a rat,
If you set him on a rat then he'd rather chase a mouse.
Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
And there isn't any call for me to shout it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!

The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore:
When you let him in, then he wants to be out;
He's always on the wrong side of every door,
And as soon as he's at home, then he'd like to get about.
He likes to lie in the bureau drawer,
But he makes such a fuss if he can't get out.

Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
And there isn't any use for you to doubt it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious beast:
His disobliging ways are a matter of habit.
If you offer him fish then he always wants a feast;
When there isn't any fish then he won't eat rabbit.
If you offer him cream then he sniffs and sneers,
For he only likes what he finds for himself;

So you'll catch him in it right up to the ears,
If you put it away on the larder shelf.
The Rum Tum Tugger is artful and knowing,
The Rum Tum Tugger doesn't care for a cuddle;
But he'll leap on your lap in the middle of your sewing,
For there's nothing he enjoys like a horrible muddle.
Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
And there isn't any need for me to spout it:
For he will do
As he do do
And theres no doing anything about it!

T. S. Eliot

--Did You Know: (26 September 1888–4 January 1965) Eliot was a poet, playwright, and literary critic. He received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948. Among his most famous writings are The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, The Waste Land, "The Hollow Men", Ash Wednesday, Four Quartets, Murder in the Cathedral, The Cocktail Party and "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats". Eliot was born in Saint Louis, Missouri and moved to the United Kingdom in 1914 (at age 25). He became a British subject in 1927 at the age of 39. Of his nationality and its role in his work, Eliot said: "[My poetry] wouldn't be what it is if I'd been born in England, and it wouldn't be what it is if I'd stayed in America. It's a combination of things. But in its sources, in its emotional springs, it comes from America." Eliot was born into the Eliot family of St. Louis, Missouri. His father, Henry Ware Eliot (1843–1919), was a successful businessman, president and treasurer of the Hydraulic-Press Brick Company in St. Louis; his mother, born Charlotte Champe Stearns (1843–1929), wrote poems and was also a social worker. Eliot was the last of six surviving children; his parents were both 44 years old when he was born. His four sisters were between eleven and nineteen years older than him; his brother was eight years older. Known to family and friends as Tom, he was the namesake of his maternal grandfather Thomas Stearns.

--Word of the Day: peremptory /(puh-REMP-tuh-ree), adjective:
1. Dictatorial.
2. Expressing command or urgency.
3. Not admitting any question or contradiction.
Example:
"'Easily provoked by minor irritations,' wrote Dimbleby about this period, '[Charles] became uncharacteristically impatient and peremptory.' The smallest things would prompt verbal abuse or 'sudden outbursts of rage'."
-Catherine Bennett; In Princes We Trust ... to Do Absolutely Nothing Useful; The Observer (London, UK); Sep 27, 2009.

--Quote of the Day:
Never have more children than you have car windows.
-Erma Bombeck

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Posted by V. Mahfood

Related articles by Zemanta

• T S Eliot is nation's favourite poet (telegraph.co.uk)

Pin It

Nature, The Gentlest Mother

Pin It

Let this delightful poem inspire your day!

--Description: 19th C, Dicksinson E., Nature--

Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest,
Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon,--
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down

Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,
The most unworthy flower.

When all the children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky

With infinite affection
And infiniter care,
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.

Emily Dickinson

--Did You Know: (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) Dickinson was an American poet. Born in Amherst, Massachusetts, to a successful family with strong community ties, she lived a mostly introverted and reclusive life. After she studied at the Amherst Academy for seven years in her youth, she spent a short time at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary before returning to her family's house in Amherst. Thought of as an eccentric by the locals, she became known for her penchant for white clothing and her reluctance to greet guests or, later in life, even leave her room. Most of her friendships were therefore carried out by correspondence. Although Dickinson was a prolific private poet, fewer than a dozen of her nearly eighteen hundred poems were published during her lifetime. The work that was published during her lifetime was usually altered significantly by the publishers to fit the conventional poetic rules of the time. Dickinson's poems are unique for the era in which she wrote; they contain short lines, typically lack titles, and often use slant rhyme as well as unconventional capitalization and punctuation. Many of her poems deal with themes of death and immortality, two recurring topics in letters to her friends. Although most of her acquaintances were probably aware of Dickinson's writing, it was not until after her death in 1886—when Lavinia, Emily's younger sister, discovered her cache of poems—that the breadth of Dickinson's work became apparent. A complete and mostly unaltered collection of her poetry became available for the first time in 1955 when The Poems of Emily Dickinson was published by scholar Thomas H. Johnson. Despite unfavorable reviews and skepticism of her literary prowess during the late 19th and early 20th century, critics now consider Dickinson to be a major American poet.

--Word of the Day: redolent \RED-uh-luhnt\, adjective:
1. Having or exuding fragrance; scented; aromatic.
2. Full of fragrance; odorous; smelling (usually used with 'of' or 'with').
3. Serving to bring to mind; evocative; suggestive; reminiscent (usually used with 'of' or 'with').
Example:
The 142-foot-long sidewheeled steamer . . . ferried people from place to place, . . . its two decks redolent with the aroma of fresh grapes, peaches, and other fruit headed for the rail spur at the Canandaigua pier, then on to markets in New York, Philadelphia, and Washington, D.C.
-A. M. Sperber and Eric Lax, Bogart

--Quote of the Day: A mother's happiness is like a beacon, lighting up the future but reflected also on the past in the guise of fond memories.
-Honore de Balzac

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Posted by V. Mahfood

Related articles by Zemanta

• Poem of the week: Childhood by Anne Bradstreet | Carol Rumens (guardian.co.uk)

Pin It

Bell Birds

Pin It

Let this lyrical poem lull your day!



--Description: 19th C, Kendall H., Nature, Seasons--

By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling:
It lives in the mountain where moss and the sedges
Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges.
Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers
Struggles the light that is love to the flowers;
And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing,
The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing.

The silver-voiced bell birds, the darlings of daytime!
They sing in September their songs of the May-time;
When shadows wax strong, and the thunder bolts hurtle,
They hide with their fear in the leaves of the myrtle;
When rain and the sunbeams shine mingled together,
They start up like fairies that follow fair weather;
And straightway the hues of their feathers unfolden
Are the green and the purple, the blue and the golden.

October, the maiden of bright yellow tresses,
Loiters for love in these cool wildernesses;
Loiters, knee-deep, in the grasses, to listen,
Where dripping rocks gleam and the leafy pools glisten:
Then is the time when the water-moons splendid
Break with their gold, and are scattered or blended
Over the creeks, till the woodlands have warning
Of songs of the bell-bird and wings of the Morning.

Welcome as waters unkissed by the summers
Are the voices of bell-birds to the thirsty far-comers.
When fiery December sets foot in the forest,
And the need of the wayfarer presses the sorest,
Pent in the ridges for ever and ever
The bell-birds direct him to spring and to river,
With ring and with ripple, like runnels who torrents
Are toned by the pebbles and the leaves in the currents.

Often I sit, looking back to a childhood,
Mixt with the sights and the sounds of the wildwood,
Longing for power and the sweetness to fashion,
Lyrics with beats like the heart-beats of Passion; -
Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters
Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest-rafters;
So I might keep in the city and alleys
The beauty and strength of the deep mountain valleys:
Charming to slumber the pain of my losses
With glimpses of creeks and a vision of mosses.


Henry Kendall

*Especially liked by Natasha O.

--Did You Know: (18 April 1839 - 1 August 1882) Kendall was a nineteenth century Australian poet. Kendall was born near Ulladulla, New South Wales. He was registered as Thomas Henry Kendall, but never appears to have used his first name. Another name, Clarence, was added in adult life but his three volumes of verse were all published under the name of "Henry Kendall". His father, Basil Kendall, was the son of the Rev. Thomas Kendall who came to Sydney in 1809 and five years later went as a missionary to New Zealand. He received only a slight education. When he was 15 he went to sea with one of his uncles and was away for about two years. Returning to Sydney when 17 years old he found his mother keeping a boarding-school; it was necessary that he should do something to earn a living, and he became a shop-assistant. He had begun to write verses and this brought him in contact with two well-known verse writers of the day, Joseph Sheridan Moore who published a volume of verse, Spring Life Lyrics, in 1864, and James Lionel Michael. He removed to Grafton in 1861 and Kendall was again employed by him for about six months during the following year. Kendall made another friend in Henry Parkes, who was editing The Empire from 1850 to 1857 and published a few of his youthful verses. In 1862 he sent some poems to the London Athenaeum which printed three of them and gave the author kindly praise. In the same year his first volume, Poems and Songs, was published at Sydney. It was well received and eventually the whole edition of 500 copies was sold.

--Word of the Day: exculpate \EK-skuhl-payt; ek-SKUHL-payt\, transitive verb:
To clear from alleged fault or guilt; to prove to be guiltless; to relieve of blame; to acquit.
Example:
Each member is determined to exculpate himself, to lay the blame elsewhere.
-Joseph Wood Krutch, "How Will Posterity Rank O'Neill?", New York Times, October 21, 1956

--Quote of the Day: Coming generations will learn equality from poverty, and love from woes.
-Kahlil Gibran

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Posted by V. Mahfood

Related articles by Zemanta

• New York Times to keep ownership of Boston Globe (financialpost.com)

Pin It

The Garden of Love

Pin It

This sensitive poem will satisfy your day..

--Description: 19th C, Blake W., Life, Love, Death--

I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.

Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

William Blake

--Did You Know: (28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827) Blake was an English poet, painter, and printmaker. Largely unrecognised during his lifetime, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of both the poetry and visual arts of the Romantic Age. His prophetic poetry has been said to form "what is in proportion to its merits the least read body of poetry in the English language". His visual artistry has led one modern critic to proclaim him "far and away the greatest artist Britain has ever produced". Although he only once journeyed farther than a day's walk outside London during his lifetime, he produced a diverse and symbolically rich corpus, which embraced the imagination as "the body of God", or "Human existence itself". Considered mad by contemporaries for his idiosyncratic views, Blake is held in high regard by later critics for his expressiveness and creativity, and for the philosophical and mystical undercurrents within his work. His paintings and poetry have been characterized as part of both the Romantic movement and "Pre-Romantic", for its large appearance in the 18th century. Reverent of the Bible but hostile to the Church of England, Blake was influenced by the ideals and ambitions of the French and American revolutions. Despite these known influences, the singularity of Blake's work makes him difficult to classify. The 19th century scholar William Rossetti characterised Blake as a "glorious luminary," and as "a man not forestalled by predecessors, nor to be classed with contemporaries, nor to be replaced.

--Word of the Day: descry \dih-SKRY\, transitive verb:
1. To catch sight of, especially something distant or obscure; to discern.
2. To discover by observation; to detect.
Example:
On a clear day, if there was no sun, you could descry (but barely) the ships roving out at anchor in Herne Bay and count their masts.
-Ferdinand Mount, Jem (and Sam)

--Quote of the Day: I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are sons of one religion, and it is the spirit.
-Kahlil Gibran

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Posted by V. Mahfood

Related articles by Zemanta

• TS Eliot named the nation's favourite poet (guardian.co.uk)

Pin It

Terrific Two of the Week: 10/12-10/16/09

Pin It

So many intriguing poems by various poets have been covered this week. Here is a recap, and my two favorite poems of the week. What were YOURS? Which poets are your favorites?  Leave a comment with your  thoughts, and let me know which classic you would like to see. The two, terrific poems of the week for me were:

--By The Sea and Dream Land--

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated daily. Simply subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. You will treasure getting daily poetry in your mail! Please continue reading the Recap below. Just click on the titles to access the poems:

 ----------------------------------

October 12, 2009

Let Love Go If Go She Will
--Description: 19th C, Stevenson R.L., Love--

October 13, 2009

By The Sea
--Description: 19th C, Rosetti C., Nature--

October 14, 2009

Sunset
--Description: 19th C, Hugo V.M.., Nature, Night--

October 15, 2009

Dream Land
--Description: 19th C, Rossetti C., Dreams, Nature--

October 16, 2009

Sonnet to the Nightingale
--Description: 17th C, Milton J., Nature, Sonnet--

--------------------------------------
Weekend Haiku:

"Candles glow softly
Flickering shadows grace walls
Hushed lovers embrace."

V. Mahfood
--------------------------------------

--Word of the Day:convivial \kuhn-VIV-ee-uhl\, adjective:
1. Fond of feasting, drinking, and good company; sociable.
2. Merry; festive.
Example:
For the next hour they talked proper nouns. The hillbilly station continued full blast. Rachel opened a quart of beer for herself and things soon grew convivial.
-Thomas Pynchon, V.

--Quote of the Day:
Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.
-Louisa May Alcott

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. The easiest way to get your regular poetic inspiration is to subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to making every day memorably intriguing for you.

Submit a poem on Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK FOR POETS

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Choose awesome apps on Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

↑ Grab this Headline Animator

Related articles by Zemanta

• Living Poe Girl, Part I: Objects of Desire (tor.com)

Pin It