Have I mentioned before that I am always late for everything?
I intended to write this post last Friday, but life pulled me elsewhere. Since I plan on fasting from the Internet on Fridays this Lent, I decided to make my first Poetry Friday a Poetry Monday instead. Why conform to the norm anyway?
If the truth be told (and where better to tell it), I am rather, well, ill-versed when it comes to poetry. I learned the common nursery rhymes as a child, was introduced to haiku and limerick in fifth grade, and submitted one very weak poem entitled "Clouds" to Zoom (to my knowledge it was never aired). That's about all I remember of my exposure to poetry during childhood. I'm sure I must have studied some verses in high school, but they certainly left no impression. In my college freshman Comp and Lit course, we studied from an introductory anthology to poetry, and I somehow managed to pull off an A-...but most of the poetry went right over my head.
It's not that I don't like poetry---I love the rhythms, the rich vocabulary and images, the twisted turns of phrase---it's just that I don't get most of it. The hidden meanings and inferences are lost on me. How does one begin to catch up and make up for such a missed education? Well, I am determined not to allow my children to be crippled in this way, and so I am learning with them, starting with the basic lines of Rossetti, Milne, and Stevenson. But it is a slow process. And I am just a bit intimidated by all of you blogging friends who seem so comfortable in the world of poetry.
This is my very long way of explaining why I have never posted a Poetry Friday before. And really, I had no intention of ever doing so, figuring that any gem I could present would be so old-school to most of you. Then I was presented with this poem a couple of weeks ago, and I knew that it had to be shared here.
Reclaiming the Red Keep
ETL
Spears clashed, shields rang,
Men died, swords sang
As they swung through the air that day.
And when reinforcement finally came,
It was too late.
The girl they found was unhurt but scared;
Her family had not been spared.
A baron took her to raise as his own
The day that the Red Keep was taken.
The years went by, the seasons passed,
The girl was nearly grown when, at last,
There arose a man yet still a boy
To save her honor and retake her home.
He laid his plans and rebuilt its wall,
Then fought against the evil Sauval*.
The dawn was bright, the hour was light
When the girl went forth to help him.
Together they fought, together they slew;
The grass was wet with blood, not dew.
They took the castle, but there still remained
A fight to be fought, a fight betwixt two,
A boy and a man.
The warriors fought that precarious fight
With all of their strength and all of their might.
They battled, thrusted, and parried too,
‘Til finally the youth was victorious.
The young but powerful duke of the land
Decided to take the matters in hand.
He proclaimed that the maiden could not own the keep,
But a husband could hold it for her.
Many men stepped up to fill that post,
But one in particular whom she loved most.
So, the lass and the lad were married
That day, and the castle, through love, was regained.
* The Sauval were a greedy and murderous fiefdom that attacked and took the Red Keep in the first place.
My daughter Elena wrote this as a narration of the historical novel, The Red Keep, by Allen French. I certainly never crafted anything like this in eighth grade...or since. Although I'm impressed by her original use of rhythm and style and her excellent choice of vocabulary, I think the thing that I love most about this poem (besides the fact that I can understand it :) is that it reaffirms our way of learning here in this family. For me, it was a little piece of evidence to support my heartfelt conviction that this method of educating works, even in the midst of my deficiencies.
We have always followed a relaxed, Charlotte Mason-infused style of learning. My educational philosophy centers around providing excellent books and then getting out of the way, allowing the books themselves to be my children's teachers. I am their guide and companion, but they make their own connections. Their enthusiasm for learning is all that I need to reassure myself that this is the best possible way for us. Their minds are being challenged, their hearts are being touched, and they are being formed for life.
Lucky for me (and us all), Melissa Wiley has been writing an edifying series of posts on a Charlotte Mason education. She expresses my thoughts and views far more eloquently than I ever could, so I invite you to visit The Lilting House, if you haven't already (and I'm sure most of you have). I guarantee that you will walk away feeling refreshed and encouraged. Lissa's joy in her motherhood is so utterly contagious...she describes a journey that I wish to follow with all my heart.
Elena and Jacinta made these masks and put together a last minute Mardi Gras party, complete with a pancake dinner, multi-colored confetti, and dancing. I confess, if we didn't have Miss Sanguine as our oldest child, this family would probably never do anything fun. She renamed us for the
party. Up above, you see Lady Cheetah, Lady Feather, Lady Moonlight, Lady Fancy, Lady Gypsy, Lady Mystery (moi), and Lord Chung (wearing Chinese pjs). To the right, you see the one who named himself Lord Irritated (believe me, it fits :).