Archives - April 2012


Apr. 15

in the classroom



It's spring semester.  That means Hamlet.  Here we are in the final scene:  death abounds.  Gertrude . . . Laertes . . . Claudius . . . the melancholy Dane.  Flights of angels, Hamlet, flights of angels.  Until next year at least.

Apr. 14

is in the air


Walt Whitman

My AP English classes are heavily into poetry with the upcoming literature exam in May.  A trio of my students have been sprinkling my car with poetry dust.  What a joy to go out to the parking lot after school is over and find the words on my windows.


This particular one is Walt Whitman:  "I sing the body electric.  The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them; they will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, and discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the SOUL."

Apr. 13

from the heart


Sunday School Lessons

            With the Easter season now over, I am reminded of my own spiritual odyssey at the First Baptist Church of Gary, Texas.  It was a small church, nestled beneath grand East Texas loblolly pines.  By closing my eyes and listening to the wind blowing through the branches of those Heaven-reaching trees, I could hear the faint rustling of angels’ wings.  As a child, I was convinced God spoke to me – in the gurgling water of the little brown creek in my grandparents’ bottom pasture, a bird’s notes bursting with perfect joy through the morning air, wildflowers silently exploding in vibrant colors on the roadsides.  I didn’t picture Heaven as a city of gold and precious gems like I had seen in my Sunday school book, but as a place more like Panola County with pale blue ...

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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