Poetry - The morning after
"They (the kids in the class), were just staring at me!" The daughter is narrating the story of her poetry recitation in class, "And when I recited the last stanza, the teacher just burst out laughing!" A non-committal, 'Great!' is all I muster. I have found out since that it was not just an elocution thing, but was an audition to represent their house to recite a poem in their weekly assembly. I don't want to read too much into her teacher's laughter. (When will we learn to trust our smiles?)
She is up against stiff competition though. Not one, but two girls in the class chose 'Daffodils'; the teacher chanted along with them.
'When often on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon the inner eye
Which is the bliss of solitude'
I believe poets do a lot of that - lie around on the couch in vacant or pensive moods. More so in Wordsworth's era. I don't lie around the couch much, you never know when one or both little ones are going to descend on you ignoring the effect of their weight on your ageing bones...
Heck! If I were the teacher, I'd put her on stage. But then, she is related to me.
She is up against stiff competition though. Not one, but two girls in the class chose 'Daffodils'; the teacher chanted along with them.
'When often on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon the inner eye
Which is the bliss of solitude'
I believe poets do a lot of that - lie around on the couch in vacant or pensive moods. More so in Wordsworth's era. I don't lie around the couch much, you never know when one or both little ones are going to descend on you ignoring the effect of their weight on your ageing bones...
Heck! If I were the teacher, I'd put her on stage. But then, she is related to me.
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