Odes to Things in Drawers – Wooden Spoons & Handkerchiefs

Ode To a Wooden Spoon
Lying in the dark drawer, but not alone
The wooden spoon waits for the moment to come alive
Bursting with possibilities in the mixing and stirring

In your tireless waiting for mixing don't bemoan
You are meant for than mixing and whirring
It is in the kitchen you are meant to thrive

Oh spoon, you are forgotten with the bamboo 
But you are lovelier and stronger than most spoons
How will I ever exist without your strength as I stir?


Ode To a Lace Handkerchief

Forgotten lace lies within the scented drawers of oak
Scraps of muslin and linen so fine and soft
Delicate for a woman's hand or purse

Carried in the past by ladies of fine lives evoke
Thoughts of Knights past in there bravery were never scoffed
A symbol of devotion in song and verse

Oh delicate handkerchief you are lowly to some
But you hold a touch of gentry to your humbleness
And I sing to you and your usefulness in verse

 

I actually want to keep writing odes to things in my drawers. Now, I am no Keats, who wrote magnificent odes to urns and nightingales, but I think these turned out okay.  I was talking odes with my family last night and my father came up with Ode to a Wooden Spoon. I’m not sure this is what he was going for, but I have only so much I can work with.

I was first thinking of handkerchiefs since I use them regularly. I have some lace ones, some quite utilitarian and boring. But they are all rather wonderful.  And I wanted to write about sweaters, and jeans, and pencils and scissors, and stamps, and various other things I keep in drawers.  Can we do an Ode to a Paperclip?  This was fun, and today I checked out some more books on Odes and Ballads and other various poems.  I liked poetry enough, but with this Blogging U course, I am full of poetry!!!!

Okay, I’ll calm down.

Kate

Unrequited Letters – Flash Fiction

He poured his heart and passion into the letters he wrote her. Long, romantic missives. Short, tiny notes folded into secret notes. He told her of his hopes and dreams. Of his delight in her newest dress or the remark she made as she conversed with the grocer. 

He had mounts of letters. Piled so high a slight breeze might disturb and send the snowy sheets into a cascade of drifts and eddies around his small study.

For he never sent her the letters. Always afraid of how she would respond to his devotion, he wrote letters till he died, always pining for her.

 

Letters, and specifically love letters, have been in my mind lately. I have been thinking about writing letters to lovers

Bright Star (film)

Bright Star (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

(not that I have any at this moment… and note the use of the plural. I’m laughing at that) Writing letters to friends and families. I love how John Keats and Fanny Brawne wrote letters, though that whole thing is rather tragic. We won’t go there.

 

I love letters. Have I mentioned that a time or two? *said with tongue in cheek* I’m sure you could search my posts for just letters and find all kinds.

 

I long to write a lover a love letter. Pull out my red wine ink and pen something that is romantic. And this bit of flash fiction made me think of that and unrequited love, which has hit me a time or two.

 

Where Are The Classics?

Cover of "Bright Star"

Cover of Bright Star

I started watching Bright Star the other day.  About the life and romance of John Keats and Fanny Brawne.  Well, any ways, the film starts off with Fanny wanting to read Endymion, by Mr. Keats.  Of course, because I love anything literary-ish, and British to boot, I decided I needed to take a look at Endymion.

My library system doesn’t have a copy of Endymion.  At all.  Nor does it have much on Keats.  Actually, my library system is lacking in quite a few of the classics.  It’s missing certain Shakespeare plays…. Like Romeo and Juliet.  Um, am I missing something here?  Shouldn’t the library be the place to get these kinds of works?

So, I’m relegated to having to read Endymion online.  I hate reading things like this online. I like flipping through a book and pulling out passages I like.  I started reading Sir Walter Scott’s Lady of the Lake, in a book from the library. I loved the edition, but have yet to find it myself, or at least the specific edition. I do have a selected works of Scott, and a paperback copy of the Lady of the Lake, which is old.  Any ways, I like reading the book format.  Not online.

The thing is, my library system isn’t small. I mean, the library is the whole county.  Not just my town.  And the county has 50K people.  So it’s not impossible.  No, the library has to put dumb worthless books in the library.  It has to ‘weed’ out books on classical painters and such because they don’t get checked out much.  But it can’t seem to have decent copies of the classics.  Especially in the poetry section. 

Now I get that poetry isn’t terribly popular.  Only unique people read it.  Yes, I’m unique, but still, CLASSICS!  Come on, isn’t that one of the reasons for going to the library?  Not everyone wants to own a classic, but at some point just about every one has read one.

Well, I’m ranting, but this is just my opinion.  I guess I’ll just have to suffer through the online version.  Same goes for wanting to read The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding.  I think there is a copy in the system, but it requires more work than I care to put into it, to read it.  So again, online.  Which probably means I’ll never read it.

Signing off

~Kate