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Saturday, November 12, 2016

Tea and poem
Quite a week. I'm glad it is over. The hysteria still rages on social media and elsewhere, but maybe it's already time for a cup of tea and a poem.

Also in the week's worry, my family's ridge-top solar envelope home in Cullowhee was saved from the wildfires by bold and brave firefighters. I thank them for that and think of them every day as they go on boxing with state-of-emergency wildfire in western North Carolina.

Go get your cup of tea. As my tiny first-grade daughter once said, sitting down with a British friend and his daughter, "I like a nice cup of Darjeeling." You might also.

And here's the accompanying suitable-for-tea poem, "Jane Austen Strolls the Upper Rooms," just up yesterday at E-Verse Radio, the baby (he also has a charming flesh-and-blood baby who distributes smiles on social media) of poet Ernest Hilbert. Auto-correct believes he is an earnest filbert, but he is not (though perhaps, like many of us, willing to be a bit of a nut now and then.) Thank you to poet Luke Stromberg for asking. I'm glad to have met him in the tangible world, but you may also meet both poets on E-verse and elsewhere in the E-world.

I like being asked, as I'm a bit lazy about the labor of sending poems out in the world. It's like laundry--I wash, I dry, I fold. Then the things sit around in a basket for a while before I force myself to put them away. Only poems sit around longer.


  1. Love the poem. The diction made my eyes cross a bit at first read, but then I took my time and loved the way all the clamor and chaos give way to privacy and peace.

  2. Heh and hee and other noises of tee-heedom. What a good reader you are!

  3. Your poetry, fortunately not folded into fascicles in closeted shoe boxes, so often reminds me of Emily Dickinson and her sublime words:

    The Poets light but Lamps --
    Themselves -- go out --
    The Wicks they stimulate --
    If vital Light

    Inhere as do the Suns --
    Each Age a Lens
    Disseminating their
    Circumference --

    * * * * *

    Yes, Marly, thanks for the vital Light you share with us.

    1. Aw, thanks, Tim--that's a kind thing to think and say! And of course I love Dickinson.


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.