When it comes to poetry I don’t have sophisticated taste. I just like what I like and usually that is what other people like also. I inherited my favorite poem book from my grandmother. It is an old leather covered copy of One Hundred and One Famous Poems with a Prose Supplement. For many years all of our poetry selections came from that book. The children didn’t get to spend too much time looking at the book though because it was too precious. Now I try to buy old copies of it whenever I see it. The copy we use at this time doesn’t even have a cover. I was happy to find out it is the same poem book Marva Collins used in her school.

I suppose my taste in art is as pedantic pedestrian as my taste in poetry. I like what appeals to my eye. Right now I am in love with John Constable and everytime I see one of his pictures I want to read travel books about England. I spend my spare time dreaming about my future walking tour of England. Will it be a How the Heather Looks tour, an Inklings tour, a Charing Cross tour or maybe a Constable tour. I don’t suppose it will make me happy at all. I will just long for more.

The above picture is one of Constable’s pictures of Brighton Beach.

Tennyson’s Crossing the Bar

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.

The bar is speaking of a sand bar. When people living along the ocean in England heard the moaning of the bar they said someone had died. Sunset and evening star. It truly is a lovely poem.

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