April is poetry month. In light of this fact, I wanted to share some of my favorite poets and poems.
First off, I want to mention my favorite children’s poet, Shel Silverstein. When I was a kid, the compilation of Silverstein’s poems, ‘Where the Sidewalk Ends,’ was the first poetry book I ever read. The poems within that tome were the funniest, most entertaining little snippets 5-year old me had ever found. My favorite was ‘Invitation’.
“If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer…
If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!”
-Invitation, By Shel Silverstein
Maybe you don’t want to read children’s poetry. As I grew older, I got big into the horror genre of reading. This led me to discover Edgar Allan Poe, who wrote about many dark themes, including death. Poe’s poem, ‘The Raven,’ is by far my favorite of his, and is well known for the line, “Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.'”
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
-The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe
The final poet that I would like to talk about, is my all time favorite poet, Robert Frost. Frost became my favorite poet when I was a teenager, because of the way he describes ordinary people going on their personal journeys. Out of all his poems, my favorite Robert Frost poem, and my favorite poem overall, is ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’. This poem painted such a beautiful picture for me, and it has stuck with me ever since I first read it.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
Poetry is a wonderful thing. It can be spooky, silly, or even adventurous. I hope you can find some poets and poems you like as well. If you are ever wondering where to find poetry, your local library is a fantastic place to start.
