Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Books

“A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,

A Jug of Wine, A Loaf of Bread—and Thou” — Omar Khayyam

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“ Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested;” — Francis Bacon

“Hungry man, reach for the book: it is a weapon.” — Bertolt Brecht

“Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination, and the journey. They are home.” — Anna Quindlen, How Reading Changed My Life

Midweek Motif ~ Books

These days we read both P(Print)-Book and E(Electronic)-Book. We may be traditional (being raised on ink and paper) only interested in a physical book or be prone to more complex technology. We are the happy denizens of the world of Books.

How are you connected to a book? How is your book world? How was your first meet? You might want to honor a book special to you.

The material quality of a book that is the smell and feel of a p-book of the olden world or the pleasure of tapping the glass surface of an e-book might find its place in your lines today.

You might include anything that’s also connected to books: any place, person or time.

Share your experiences of this magic world:

The Reading Mother

by Strickland Gillilan

I had a mother who read to me

Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,

Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,

"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.

I had a Mother who read me lays

Of ancient and gallant and golden days;

Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,

Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales

Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,

True to his trust till his tragic death,

Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things

That wholesome life to the boy heart brings--

Stories that stir with an upward touch,

Oh, that each mother of boys were such!

You may have tangible wealth untold;

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be--

I had a Mother who read to me.

My Days Among the Dead Are Past

by Robert Southey

My days among the Dead are past;

    Around me I behold,

Where'er these casual eyes are cast,

    The mighty minds of old;

My never-failing friends are they,

With whom I converse day by day.

With them I take delight in weal,

    And seek relief in woe;

And while I understand and feel

    How much to them I owe,

My cheeks have often been bedew'd

With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

My thoughts are with the Dead, with them

    I live in long-past years,

Their virtues love, their faults condemn,

    Partake their hopes and fears,

And from their lessons seek and find

Instruction with an humble mind.

My hopes are with the Dead, anon

    My place with them will be,

And I with them shall travel on

    Through all Futurity;

Yet leaving here a name, I trust,

That will not perish in the dust.

There is no Frigate like a Book

by Emily Dickinson

There is no Frigate like a Book 

To take us Lands away 

Nor any Coursers like a Page 

Of prancing Poetry – 

This Traverse may the poorest take 

Without oppress of Toll – 

How frugal is the Chariot 

That bears the Human Soul –

   Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community—

             (Next week Susan’s Midweek Motif will be ~ Holiness /Holy Day)

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ River

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Midweek Motif ~ River

"For life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one."--Khalil Gibran

"No man steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he is not the same man."--Heraclitus

"Fame is like a river, that beareth up things light and swollen, and drowns things weighty and solid"--Francis Bacon


River is the lifeline of all ancient civilizations. It is the silent witness of the rise and fall of empires and races. Though not breathing river lives. No wonder it has become a powerful symbol in mythologies of so many cultures.

River has been personified as being that is worshiped, feared, revered. It has been treated as metaphors for life, fertility and time too. Its birth, its journey with twists and turns and its final transformation is awe inspiring.

Our dear poet friend Sherry Blue Sky's poem flows like this:

Mother Ocean / Small Stream
by Sherry Marr


Small stream, as you gambol down rocky cliffs,
burble and babble in swirling pools,
chuckle in the afternoon sunlight,
you meet obstacles
on your journey to the sea.

Drought dries up your stream bed for a time'
or logs crash down and clog your passage
with mud and debris
it might take aeons to dislodge,
before you can flow freely
once again.

And yet you persevere,
with confidence,
with courage, with determination,
with gaiety,
because forward is the only direction you know,
and your life's work is
to finally reach the sea.

You stay serene and focused,
because you know that,
whatever may befall you as you travel,
still, you are water,
each drop of you as necessary
to the cycle of life as the next.
You know, one day you will merge
with Mother Ocean,
will become one with her,
will immerse yourself in her immensity
for all time.
Already, even at such a distance,
you are one,
for, still and always
you are water.


I may add another voice in our river song today and that's of  Wang Wei's (699AD-761Ad) who was a Tang dynasty Chinese poet, musician, painter, and statesman. He was one of the most renowned men of arts and letters of his time.

A Green Stream
by Wang Wei

I have sailed the river of yellow flowers,
Borne by the channel of a green stream,
Rounding ten thousand turns through the mountains
On a journey of less than thirty miles.

Rapids hum over heaped rocks;
But where light grows dim in the thick pines,
The surface of an inlet sways with nut-horns
And weeds are lush along the banks.

Down in my heart I have always been as pure
As this limpid water is.
Oh, to remain on a broad flat rock
And to cast a fishing-line forever!


Another poem for today's theme is Emily Dickinson's My River runs to thee.

My River runs to thee
by Emily Dickinson

My river runs to thee
Blue sea! Wilt welcome me?
My River wait reply
Oh sea-- look graciously
I'll fetch thee Brooks
From spotted nooks
Say--Sea--Take me!


So how does river sing to you? Today I would like you to be inspired by Rivers and write your lines.

Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community.

( Next week Susan's Midweek Motif will be ~ Mercy. )