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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/1275-.html
Poetry: September 20, 2006 Issue [#1275]

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Poetry


 This week:
  Edited by: Stormy Lady Author IconMail Icon
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Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady Author Icon


Word from our sponsor



Letter from the editor


Pretty Words
By Elinor Morton Wylie

Poets make pets of pretty, docile words:
I love smooth words, like gold-enamelled fish
Which circle slowly with a silken swish,
And tender ones, like downy-feathered birds:
Words shy and dappled, deep-eyed deer in herds,
Come to my hand, and playful if I wish,
Or purring softly at a silver dish,
Blue Persian kittens fed on cream and curds.

I love bright words, words up and singing early;
Words that are luminous in the dark, and sing;
Warm lazy words, white cattle under trees;
I love words opalescent, cool, and pearly,
Like midsummer moths, and honied words like bees,
Gilded and sticky, with a little sting.



Elinor Morton Hoyt was born in Somerville, New Jersey, in September of 1885. Her grandfather was governor of Pennsylvania. When Elinor was 12, her father was appointed Solicitor General of the United States. So, her family moved to Washington D.C., where Elinor attended private schools and graduated in 1904. She did not attend college. In December of 1906, Elinor married Philip Hichborn.

The marriage was awful for Elinor, but her mother was against divorce. In 1910, after several years of misery and her father's untimely death, Elinor finally left Philip Hichborn and her three-year-old son. She eloped to England with Horace Wylie, who was also married with three children of his own. It was there she privately published her first book Incidental Numbers in 1912. When World War I broke out, their presents became unwelcome. They moved to Maine and rented a little apartment. Soon Elinor was no longer in love with Horace Wylie; she had met William Rose Benet.

Benet helped Elinor get established in New York. Her first book of poems, Nets to Catch the Wind, was published in 1921. In 1922 she became literary editor of Vanity Fair magazine. In 1923 Elinor finally divorced Horace Wylie. She published her second book of poetry, Black Armour, and her novel Jennifer Lorn was released. That same year she married William Rose Benet. Elinor was said to be an inadequate stepmother to William's children, so William's sister assumed custody of them.

It took Elinor just two years to become a New York icon. Her writing only got better with every book she published. In 1928 Elinor returned to England alone. She found herself once again in love with a married man. But that man did not return her love. She suffered from Bright's Disease. That December she went back to New York to spend Christmas with William. On December 16, 1928, she died quietly at home of a stroke. Her other volumes of poetry were Trivial Breath, Angels and Earthly Creatures, Collected Poems of Elinor Wylie, and her novel The Venetian Glass Nephew.

Incantation
By Elinor Morton Wylie

A white well
In a black cave;
A bright shell
In a dark wave.

A white rose
Black brambles hood;
Smooth bright snows
In a dark wood.

A flung white glove
In a dark fight:
A white dove
On a wild black night.

A white door
In a dark lane:
A bright core
To bitter black pain.

A white hand
Waved from dark walls;
In a burnt black land
Bright waterfalls.

A bright spark
Where black ashes are;
In the smothering dark
One white star.



Velvet Shoes
By Elinor Morton Wylie

Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet snd slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.

I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow's milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.

We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.

We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
On white silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.



Thank you all!
Stormy Lady Author Icon
A logo for Poetry Newsletter Editors

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Editor's Picks


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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contestOpen in new Window. [ASR] is:


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LETTERS IN THE SAND

We will waltz through this autumn; you with me
along the pathways that lead to the sea.
We’ll scale mountains so high, tread valleys deep
and the love that we share promise to keep.

With harmony in the flow of our dance
we’ll be floating along as in a trance.
The horizon ever glows here in this land
so we paint signed love letters in the sand.

9/6/06
Monty

10 syllable line count aabbccdd Scheme


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Acrylic Sails Unfurled

A dusty picture faded on the wall
in harmony with floating wisps of web.
Its grace an autumn hue stroked short and tall,
horizon, yacht embarked, and sun-washed ebb,
well captured in the glinting light of dusk.
The paint had aged. Neglect, wet rot and mold
had smudged the letters. Barely there, its husk
was signed, "with love" in waltzing ink of gold.
So many days and months, then years had passed
since artist's last-drawn-breath and hope-bright eyes
had seen creation, heard harsh insults cast,
and gifted imperfection grieving cries.
Yet beauty cursed with spite and hateful quirk
still lingered, till acclaimed consummate work.



Honorable mention:
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#1153890 by Not Available.


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These are the rules:

1)You must use the words I give in a poem.

2)They can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem.

3)All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contestOpen in new Window. [ASR] by October 12, 2006.

4)The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post. (October 18, 2006)

The words are:

choices violence crumbling intensity chaos hushed serene new

*Delight* Good luck to all *Delight*
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 The Willow Open in new Window. (E)
The Willow in my yard triggered this poem.
#1156407 by CHarris Author IconMail Icon

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#1157023 by Not Available.

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