Say these words softly and slowly

I’ve been in a poetic mood lately – that’s the best way I can describe it.

I’ve always loved words but this is somehow different and all of a sudden.

I took advantage of my Prime membership today (big surprise) and will be receiving (not one) but two volumes of poetry tomorrow (And, no, I could not wait until Monday for delivery even though it would have been free).

See what I mean??  I’m having poetry over-nighted!

Its kind of scary!

I’ve run across a couple of poems by Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson recently, where each time while reading them, something inside of me ‘tingled’ for lack of a better word.

I never enjoyed poetry before now.  In fact, I never even liked it (much) before now.  So I’m kind of excited to see where this new interest will lead me.

I’m not sure what has changed, other than my perspective, possibly.

Although once, now that I think about it, while watching Anne of Green Gables  (several years ago) that one part – in the beginning – where Anne is reciting the ‘Lady of Shallot’, ‘Willows Whiten, Aspens Quiver’…THAT did get me…maybe I’ve just been in denial all this time.

Anyway…I was perusing the internet just now, looking for ‘beautiful words’ to tide me over until tomorrow and I found a few that I like the sound of.

In fact (according to Wikipedia) there is a term for words or phrases that are ‘beautiful’ simply in terms of phonaesthetics – meaning they have no regard for semantics.  One (much used) example of this is the word:  cellar door. 

Say it softly and slowly. 

Cellar door

Nice, isn’t it?

Here are some others:

(but you have to say them out loud, softly and slowly).

Ephemeral

Evocative

Harbinger

Imbue

Incipient

Fetching

Ethereal

Dalliance

Effervescent

Elision

Gossamer

Leisure

Lilt

Jonquil

Tendril

Plethora

Myrrh

Mist

Quintessential

Serendipity

Demure

Murmuring

Anemone

Tranquil

Luminous

Cerulean

Fawn

Hush

Diaphanous

It’s quite nice, don’t you think?


A Light Exists in Spring

A Light Exists in Spring

-Emily Dickinson

A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period,
When March is scarcely here.

A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.

 

 

It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.

Then, as horizons step,
Or noons report away,
Without the formula of sound,
It passes, and we stay:

A quality of loss
Affecting our content,
As trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a sacrament.

 

 

Be inspired by Spring this year!

Lensbaby images – ‘just off’ Michigan Avenue, Chicago