Platzer,+Quinn

"Poetry is emotion put into measure. The emotion must come by nature, but the measure can be acquired by art." -Thomas Hardy

__Ode: To the Tree__
Your arms curl Reaching for the stars Thousands of fingers produce green life.

Your body stands Thick, strong Home to the many small lives.

Your feet dig Deep into the dark Drawing health from the fertile soil.

Your voice speaks Slow and careful Harsh sounds on a strong breeze.

__Sonnet: Untitled__
The water is my favorite thing all year. I go to the beach to have lots of fun. I like to swim and watch the shells appear.

(That's as far as I got)

__I was raised by:__
I was raised by The working Smiling Gentle "As long as you finish your vegetables You don't have to clean your plate." Kind of Parents

I was raised by The rarely angry Barely ever shouting Lenient "Go apologize and sound like you mean it." Kind of Parents

I was raised by The sentimental Full of memories Nostalgic "Do you remember when...?" Kind of Parents

I was raised by The encouraging Supporting Helpful "If you don't get your act together You'll be cleaning toilets in McDonalds for the rest of your life." Kind of Parents

I was raised by The glasses wearing Curly haired Hippy-Punk "You can believe it even if you don't see it." Kind of Parents

And I'll love them always.

__Poet: Emily Dickinson__
__A Bird came down the Walk (328)__

A Bird came down the Walk- He did not know I saw- He bit and Angleworm in halves And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew From a convenient Grass- And then hopped sidewise to the Wall To let a Beetle pass-

He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all around- They looked like frightened Beads, I though- He stirred his Velvet Head

Like on in danger, Cautious, I offered him a Crumb And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home-

Then Oars divide the Ocean, Too silver for a seam- Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon Leap, splashless as they swim.

In the poem “A Bird came down the Walk” by Emily Dickinson, she writes about a scene that she saw from her window. She notices each movement, each little detail in his appearance. She describes what she sees the bird doing, with no metaphors until the third stanza in which she compares his eyes to frightened beads on his velvet head. There are more metaphors in stanzas four and five because the bird flies off, his feathers rowing “him softer home”. The final stanza, the fifth one, compares his wings to oars dividing the ocean, or butterflies.

__Fame is a Fickle Food (1659)__

Fame is a Fickle Food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.

Whose crumbs the crows inspect And with ironic caw Flap past it to the Farmer's Corn- Men eat of it and die.

In the poem, “Fame is a Fickle Food” by Emily Dickinson, she compares fame to “fickle food”. This metaphor is because the plate and table on which it’s set is always changing and can never make up its mind. If you consume too much of this you become overwhelmed and this leads to complications and death. The crows refuse to eat it, they know better, and fly past it with “ironic caw”. They fly past it with a warning call.

__Hope is the thing with Feathers (254)__

Hope is the thing with Feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; And must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.

In “Hope is that thing with Feathers” by Emily Dickinson, the feeling of hope is compared to a bird and its song. This poem seeks to pull the reader into a thoughtful state, where they can see in their mind everything that is described by the well thought-out, descriptive words. This poem’s descriptions achieve an impact on the reader. It’s an extended metaphor, as the bird’s song is heard in a gust, and in faraway places. The gust represents turbulent times, where life is far from easy. But you can still hear it singing, even if the wind is strong, and that’s what hope is. Something that you can hear, no matter how difficult it might get.