In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes*; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?



Peppermints and Parliaments

~a repost, particularly in honor of the C.S. Lewis Conference that I was only able to attend in spirit. Link to rebroadcasts here.

Following is a bit of verse, dedicated to our beloved Jack and all true Narnians.  Each stanza "fits" one of the books.  Just tickles it, really.  But I hope it reminds you a bit, of the glory of Narnia.... 

You launched a ship to tread the dawn
And Narnians became my friends
Eastward sailed and we arrived
Where morning never ends

Peppermints and parliaments
Arching bridges to the skies
Quest to find the truth and smother
All enchanted lies

 A desert race began with only
Fishingnets and runaways
Now to serve the king we're running
Aslan has our gaze

Garden meetings, feathered rides
What's the apple of our eye?
Growing now a tree's protection
Did you see Him cry?

Fresh fried fish, some tainted sweets
Aslan's on the move, they said.
This our traitor's only hope
He can save the dead

Dancing stars and bowing trees
Our king has blown the horn
Help delayed but trusting that
We never fight alone

A desperate, final battlefield
But through the darkened stable-door
A land more yours than you could know
Is home forevermore

by Olivia original work, note blog copyright
Nonny, Nonny...


And birds fly south and birds fly south
Oh blessed season that marks my year to year
Beloved autumn, that starts my life anew and stops my mouth,
Renews my mind, my loves, my listening ear

My deepest, oldest thought, that blazoned longing comes again
Here into the melancholy of the hour I fall and find I'm home
The feelings I can't get to are torn apart at summer's end,
Rearranged into a watercolor of azure and honeycomb.

Each autumn, like the very vapor of this life, sits
Fleeting on the keen knife-edge of time
The sweetness of these days, or half of it
At least, is hidden in a shell of brevity, sublime

'Though summer's light and free, I love my tethers
That tie me to the world beyond this world
The Oldest Story murmurs through this weather
The light beyond the picture has been swirled

The creatures hide their nuts and burrow slowly
As crisp and frosty hours take their hold
Some fall asleep... but I awaken fully
This season, like the standing corn, is gold.

original poetry by Olivia