Thread: Poets
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Old 01-27-2006, 05:02 PM
Jyqm Jyqm is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by The Tower
My great-grandfather was a published poet in the early 20th century. I not all that big on "the written word" poetry as much as poetry that happens to be set to music (and by this I am not talking about something like "Listen to the Rain"....).

The Evening Primrose by Benjamin Britten

When once the sun sinks in the West
And dew drops pearl the evenings breast
Almost as pale as moonbeams are
Or its companionable star

The evening primrose ope's anew
Its delicate blossom to the dew
And hermit-like, shunning the light
Wakes its fair bloom upon the night

Who blindfold to its fond caresses
Knows not the beauty he possesses

Thus it blooms on while night is by
When day looks out with open eye
Bashed at the gaze it cannot shun
It faints and withers and is gone

Nice! The second line in particular is just fantastic.

I know there's other people around here who have written poetry of their own. Don't be shy, kids.
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