Image by drurydrama (Len Radin) via Flickr I have enjoyed reading and writing poetry for many years, ever since I was around 16 years old and discovered a dusty tome in my mom's bookshelf called "The Green Leaf and the Gray" by J.P. Irvine. One of his poems really touched me. It was called "My Little Girl Under the Snow" and featured lines like these:
This night, for my poor little darling,
In her little grave under the leaves,
Only dressed in a shroud of Swiss-muslin,
Cut low at the neck and the sleeves;
For she died when the manifold lilies
Were a-bloom in the garden below,
But the meek little face in the coffin
Was as mute and as pure as the snow.
Sad, isn't it?
I was hooked by the idea that you could write down your thoughts in a rhyming fashion. And so I began to write poems.
Years after first opening that book, I went home to visit my parents, found the book and it now stands on my bookshelf, like a little sentry of time. In leafing through it, I find that J.P. Irvine was a very religious guy (or woman?), a little too many "Gods" thrown into his work for my taste, but I thank J.P. Irvine for showing me the path of poetry.
Recently, I came across this sterling collection - you can read it for free - called "Slick," by Vivian Faith Prescott. She is a writer and poet who lives in Alaska. The theme of her chapbook is the cost of oil, especially the price paid by the indigenous peoples of Alaska.
Definitely worth checking out if you get a chance.
Slick, an Online Chapbook by Vivian Gray Prescott