A daily poem? What’s not to love…

It is Sunday and I am in a reflective mood as I gaze out at our yard, where small birds are minding their own business in the bougainvillea bushes and the doves and pigeons keep watch in the guango tree. The “Christmas Breeze” comes and goes, pushing out the curtains from time to time. The grassquits are feeding their babies in a hanging basket just outside the window (a good nesting spot). The grackles are socializing at the bird bath.

So, I just wanted to pass on this gem that my dear friend Ann-Margaret Lim (herself a beautiful poet) shared with me recently, in case you don’t know about it. I am grateful to her for this gift of poetry. She herself had a poem published in this daily poetic offering; read it here.

It is called “Poem-a-Day” and it is a product of the Academy of American Poets (founded in 1934) – which organizes National Poetry Month in the U.S., among many other great projects.

So, you may subscribe here, and each morning a poem will drop into your inbox. When I see it, I cannot resist. I have to click, then read the poem – once, twice, three times.

The poems are as diverse as they could possibly be. Here is one of my current favorites, which I have revisited a few times now. You can read them, but you can also listen to each poem in audio, which is a quite different experience, I often find. The series for November (Native American History Month) includes some very moving poetry.

The Lost Lagoon, by Emily Pauline Johnson, also known as Tekahionwake. She was a Mohawk poet, artist, and performer. The author of The White Wampum (Copp Clark Co., 1895), Canadian Born (G. N. Morang, 1903), and Flint and Feather (Musson Book Co., 1912), she died on March 7, 1913.

The Lost Lagoon

It is dusk on the Lost Lagoon,
And we two dreaming the dusk away,
Beneath the drift of a twilight grey—
Beneath the drowse of an ending day
And the curve of a golden moon.

It is dark on the Lost Lagoon,
And gone are the depths of haunting blue,
The grouping gulls, and the old canoe,
The singing firs, and the dusk and—you,
And gone is the golden moon.

O lure of the Lost Lagoon—
I dream to-night that my paddle blurs
The purple shade where the seaweed stirs—
I hear the call of the singing firs
In the hush of the golden moon.

Emily Pauline Johnson, also also known as Tekahionwake. (Photo: poets.org)

3 thoughts on “A daily poem? What’s not to love…

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