“A Quiet Space”
Where prayer her tome
as the humming-bird
whose pause is now heard
among hallowed ohm.
Her wings stutter, moan
tipped o’er open bud
hover; huddle home.
Silent is her poem.
rhyme: abba abaa
(Poem pronounced “Pom”/long o)
All articles filed in January 2014
“Invictus” by Henley
This seems such a great poem to begin the New Year, 2014.
“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
William Ernest Henley, poet. Vanity Fair Magazine 11/26/1892.
