Friday, July 06, 2007

Poetry Friday

It's Friday. That means it's poem day!

So... here's a poem:

The clouds their backs together laid,
The north begun to push,
The forests galloped till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice;
The thunder crumbled like a stuff—
How good to be safe in tombs,
Where nature’s temper cannot reach,
Nor vengeance ever comes!

-Emily Dickinson

I know it's morbid. It's Dickinson, it's bound to be, but there has been some severe weather this week, so... um, yeah.


Erin said...

I love your new look!

Glad you're enjoying the quotes. :)

Jennie said...

I'm glad you like the new look! It was time for a change... :)

Erin said...

BTW I love this poem...

TadMack said...

Oh, I don't think this is morbid. It's... peaceful.
And I'm a tiny bit jealous that someone is having RAIN when it's ninety-something over here.

Lotus Reads said...

I adore Emily Dickinson...I am familiar with her better-known poetry and have seen a couple of documentaries on her life, but it's time to revisit some of those documentaries so I can fully appreciate where her poetry came from and why she was inclined to be morbid.

Jennie said...

tedmack-- it's still 90 something here despite the rain! Luckily, the humidity did go down a bit...

lotus--I love Dickinson. The rhymthm and rhyme are just quirky enough to throw you a bit, which I think makes the reader reflect more on what she was saying.