Poetry for The Ages — Robert Burns

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My Mom loved poetry and often tried her hand at some private lines. Robert Burns (1759-1796) was her favorite poet. For some unknown reason, I ended up moving to Vermont and marrying a guy I met there. His name was Burns. Hmmm…

Life is a never-ending trip!

One day recently, I picked up my Mom’s old keepsake poetry book entitled Burn’s Poems and discovered two things. Yes, his name was Burns, so that apostrophe (No. 1) on the title of his book of poems is misplaced ! It should read Burns’ Poems, or Burns’s Poems. That publisher’s (circa 1800s) mistake astounds me; but so does life!

Life is a trip you don’t pack a bag for; you just go with the flow. Best laid plans go asunder…normally.

In the picture (ABOVE), my Mom poses during a camping trip on a picnic bench for Dad, who, yes, inserted the rock under the leg to make it the same length as the others and steady the table! My Dad was our family’s Steady Eddie — always!

In Burns’ book, his poem “My Wife’s A Winsome Wee Thing” was marked by a worn, broken red length of ribbon. The poem says in part:

“She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonny wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o’ mine…

…The warld’s (world’s) wrack, we share…

Wi’ her I’ll blithely bear it,
And think my lot divine.”

My Mother’s name was Bonita Jean — Bonny. Life’s a wondrous mystery!

My Dad loved my Mom dearly, and that poem’s thoughts were my Dad’s for my Mom, thus (No. 2) the page remained marked by the little red ribbon throughout my Mother’s life. My Father’s name was Robert.

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Life is never a certainly. It only sends us messages to interpret.

Although my first writing love is Fiction prose, I’ve tried my hand at poetry now and again, too, as my Mother’s daughter at:
http://www.barbwritespoetry.wordpress.com

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Credit:
Family Photos from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg

 

 

 

Challenging Thoughts

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Most people, like this hungry-challenged kitty-cat, enjoy a challenge in life, and it may be that the more one answers that call to challenge, the more satisfying life becomes.

I enjoyed this writing- and work-related challenge given by one of the producer-writers of the movie “Bright Star”, a biographical drama on the life of poet John Keats. Paraphrased, she indicated that “playing with the (your) work is how you find your energy” for it, to carry it out well and with enthusiasm.

Keats, although unappreciated in his short life-time (dying at the age of just 25), practiced play with his work, and he practiced his poetry, as well as using it in his love letters to “Fanny”. His work eventually became recognized throughout the world as genius.

Work, play, practice altogether brings rewards.

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Credit:
Photo from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg

 

Some Thoughts Gather No Moss

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One’s thinking does change as the years flow by, but some truisms evolve from time-tested thoughts, as well.

Here’s one I love because I feel it so much whenever I’m writing:
— from Anita Coates, February, 1993, The Writer article “Keep Dreaming” in the “Off the Cuff” column —

“…Because
there’s just no feeling as good as sitting down at the typewriter with a cup of coffee and a ream of paper and looking up a moment later to find three hours have slipped past…”

That thought truly comes from letting the flow go…!

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Credit:
Photo from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg

Starting Out…

Why did I chose to use a photo of infancy, here?

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Me, 1947, one-year-old!

Because…

as I think about life having been lived for 70 years, I also think of the whole thing of infancy, in life, and, here, on WordPress, this writing site that quickly has become like a home base, like the end of the trip through my writing life that also began in infancy, when I first put pencil to paper and which has come around full circle to a place where I feel I’m just beginning a new writing life that I was meant to live.

I’m a new, improved infant, able to write intelligently, but, in a way, just finding a life’s writing base.

It’s all too deep to go further. The more I attempt to explain it, the more I can elaborate on it. So I’ll just leave this main course, here, and leave you, dear readers, to speculate on more of life’s way of turning you thus and so, until you reach home base on your own terms and begin again, as an infant.

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Credit:
Photo from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg