Tag Archives: Robert Browning

On Year 5: April’s Poems


Happy National Poetry Month! It’s also the first full month of spring, but it hasn’t really felt like it:  April snow, April frost, April freeze.  It’s been cold and miserable, for the most part.  T. S. Eliot knew what he was talking about when he said it was the cruellest month.   April 1, Wednesday: …

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On Year 4: April’s Poems


It’s National Poetry Month! It’s also April, which is my favorite month, because it is the month of beginnings for me–when the world is finally free of winter (despite this year’s attempts to hold on), and when the flowers begin to show.  (My birthday’s in April, too, and I love  my birthday.)  I tried, this year, …

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On Year 3: April’s Poems


April is the cruelest month, and the coolest.  April is, of course, celebrated as National Poetry Month.  In April, just like Chaucer’s pilgrims, I always feel restless when the snow recedes and the flowers begin teasing, when the birds come back, when the mud oozes forth.    In the poetic realm, I am not, by …

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On the Second April’s Poems


April is a month of contradictions.  Which, of course, might be the reason why I was born in it.  It’s an ornery month, reflecting my personality running up to school’s April break more than a bit accurately. Still, April, of course, is National Poetry Month.  So that’s all the more reason to read poems to …

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On April’s Poems


It’s National Poetry Month!  We must throw a month-long party now!  My friends Karen, Teri, Lisa, Diana, Maureen, and a whole slew of other people started the month off right by going to a workshop/presentation by Baron Wormser on Saturday the 2nd, in Hallowell.  What a great way to start this month–any month.  Baron gave …

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On My Conversation with Elizabeth Barrett Browning


A thousand years ago, when I was quite young and reading my grandparents’ de-accessioned Reader’s Digest Condensed Books in order, I read The Barretts of Wimpole Street. Because it was there, of course, and for no other reason.  After all this time I have a vague recollection of Elizabeth’s overbearing and overprotective father, a man …

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