Archives - August 2010


Aug. 25

The poetry of Ted Kooser


New School Year


     The new school year has begun.  Excitement is in the air.  Dread is in the air.  It is a time of new beginnings.  A time to remember old losses.  As teachers, all we can hope for is that each student will try his or her hardest.  Former poet laureate Ted Kooser has an interesting take on education in his poem titled "Student."


The green shell of his backpack makes him lean

into wave after wave of responsibility,

and he swings his stiff arms and cupped hands,


paddling ahead.  He has extended his neck

to its full length, and his chin, hard as a beak,

breaks the cold surf.  He's got his baseball cap on


backward as up he crawls, out of the froth

of a hangover and onto the sand of the future,

and lumbers, heavy ...

Aug. 15

The poetry of Emily Dickinson


The Mountain


     Having just returned from a trip to Ouray, Colorado (the photo is from a mountainside road looking down on the town) with my husband and sons, I feel compelled to focus on nature poetry.  Oh, the majesty of a mountain, whether staring up from the bottom or staring down from the top.  I don't imagine Miss Emily soiled her clothes by climbing any mountains like my sons and I did, but she perfectly captured a mountain's essence in her personified poem.


The mountain sat upon the plain

In his eternal chair,

His observation omnifold,

His inquest everywhere.


The seasons prayed around his knees,

Like childen round a sire:

Grandfather of the days is he,

Of dawn the ancestor.

Listening to the whispering pines

Hello. My name is Donna Cozart Pauley. Welcome to The Whispering Pines, a literary blog dedicated to my love of the written word. It is an eclectic collage of my life -- from my poems to my stories to my family to my pets to my causes to my photographs to my recipes to my love of teaching to my favorite literature. Please feel free to comment. Words are only important if they are heard or read. Just like those soundless trees falling in the forest.

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