I’ve been meaning for some time to start occasionally posting some poems. To get myself back into the habit of reading poetry and to share those poems with my few but faithful readers. This morning Danielle Bean sadly announced the death of one of her family’s pet chickens and the event reminded me of one of my favorite poems. So I’m going to inaugerate poetry Wednesdays. Starting now. (Which is not to say the next poem will necessarily be posted next Wednesday or anything.)
By John Crowe Ransom
Beautifully Janet slept
Till it was deeply morning. She woke then
And thought about her dainty-feathered hen,
To see how it had kept.
One kiss she gave her mother,
Only a small one gave she to her daddy
Who would have kissed each curl of his shining baby;
No kiss at all for her brother.
�Old Chucky, Old Chucky!� she cried,
Running on little pink feet upon the grass
To Chucky�s house, and listening. But alas,
Her Chucky had died.
It was a transmogrifying bee
Came droning down on Chucky�s old bald head
And sat and put the poison. It scarcely bled,
But how exceedingly
And purply did the knot
Swell with the venom and communicate
Its rigour! Now the poor comb stood up straight
But Chucky did not.
So there was Janet
Kneeling on the wet grass, crying her brown hen
(Translated far beyond the daughters of men)
To rise and walk upon it.
And weeping fast as she had breath
Janet implored us, �Wake her from her sleep!�
And would not be instructed in how deep
Was the forgetful kingdom of death.