Tag Archives: spring

National Poetry Month

In honor of April as National Poetry Month, a verse by one of my favorite poets about one of my absolute favorite literary beings.

“Sherwood,” by Alfred Noyes

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake;

Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.

Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves
Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

shivering through the leaves

Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:
All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon;
Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist
Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.

Merry, merry England is waking as of old,
With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold:
For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June

Love is in the greenwood building him a house
Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs;
Love it in the greenwood: dawn is in the skies;
And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.

Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep:
Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?
Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,
Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,
Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,
And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.

Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together
With quarter-staff and drinking-can and grey goose-feather;
The dead are coming back again; the years are rolled away
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows;
All the heart of England hid in every rose
Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

all the heart of England hid in every rose

Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old
And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold,
Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen
All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men;
Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day;

shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold

Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash
Rings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash;
The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly;
And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.

Robin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves
Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves:
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

This Time in Recent History

The impending spring always makes me retrospective for some reason. I don’t know if it’s something about finally being able to stand up straight and breathe in fresh air (as opposed to huddling against the cold and staying inside) or realizing how much I’ve missed the sun, but spring just has a way of reminding me of good times past.

So today, I was sifting through old photos and decided to post a few from springs of the previous few years. Five years ago, I was going to senior prom. Wooooow. L-R high school girlfriends: Courtney Mock, Emily Singleton, Vicki Beall.


Four years ago, I was in college in Manhattan and really enjoying the spring weather in contrast to a much harsher than I’m used to New York winter. This is a picture of my roommate Muneeba Raza and I getting ready to attend a friend’s percussion recital.


By Spring 2008, I had moved to Nashville and was fortunately making lots of new friends. Here are just a couple of Belmont girls at a basketball game, L-R: Jersey Ross, Steph Elder, Candie Walter.


For 2009, I had a couple of good pictures to choose from but this one with Tyler I like best. I don’t even know when exactly or why it was taken, but we look happy.


This picture is from my birthday in 2010 and is typical of a night with my very good friend Katie Feldhaus.


And this photo was taken just a few weeks ago.


So much happened in between the times at which these pictures were taken, but as is the nature of things. I do my best to document the important events in life and the not-so-important ones too, but you just can’t record it all, can you?

Sonnet 104

My senior year of high school, I was President of our National Forensic League, a club that one can join only after participating in a number of events or occasions that involve oratory, public speaking, public reading, speeches, etc. We went to tournaments and competitions, loads of students from our theatre department preparing poems or monologues or extemporaneous pieces with which to compete. And I was their nerd queen. One year, I recited a creepy monologue from Five Kinds of Silence by Shelagh Stephenson; one tournament, a friend and I performed a scene from William Gibson’s The Miracle Worker; I won a few competitions with my version of Noyes’ The Highwayman; but none of these was I so proud of as my Shakespeare pieces.

The regional Shakespeare competition requires a contrasting monologue and sonnet recitation. I chose Tamora’s angry, heart-wrenching monologue from Titus Andronicus and the enlightening, inspired Sonnet 104. The words from Titus have faded from memory over time, but that sonnet – those 14 beautiful lines – have stayed with me all these years. They are practically music, and I just had to share:

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold,
Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d,
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn’d,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv’d;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv’d:
For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.

three April perfumes

in three hot Junes burn'd

Outfit for the Day

Unfortunately, I have had a lot of time to write informally because my formal writing has been requiring much of my free time lately… lots going on in my little world this week, some of which I hope I’ll be able to expound upon later, but until then, I’ll just say this: I am feeling fabulous today, and it could have to do with the fact that I’m now exercising nearly 6 times a week, or the fact that the weather is finally beautiful again, but I think it may have more to do with the fact that I’m wearing a new dress. This dress:

quite lovely

And this little guy as my jewelry for the afternoon:

isn't he cute?

The dress is from ModCloth (surprise), and the necklace is from Francesca’s, another favorite of mine. I’m also sporting black tights, black ballet flats, and a red cardigan. Today is a good day.