Tag Archives: poet

Nature’s Way

Hi everyone, I hope you are all enjoying getting out and about. Make the most of everyday and each other, show the ones you love that you care, Enjoy nature at its finest, and keep its beauty everlasting.

I found this beautiful poem that i thought I must share with you all

Upon a nice mid-spring day,
Let’s take a look at Nature’s way.
Breathe the scent of nice fresh air,
Feel the breeze within your hair.

The grass will poke between your toes,
Smell the flowers with your nose.
Clouds form shapes within the skies,
And light will glisten from your eyes.

Hear the buzzing of the bees,
Climb the tallest willow trees.
Look across the meadow way,
And you shall see a young deer play.

Pick the daisies as they grow,
Watch a gentle cold stream flow.
Know the sounds of water splash,
Catch its glimmer in a flash.

When altogether all seems sound,
Lay yourself upon the ground.
Take a moment to inhale,
And listen to Nature tell her tale…

By Heidi Campbell

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. Enjoy life, family, pets nature and so much more. See you next week!

Phillis Wheatley’s Story

Hi everyone, hope you are all okay. This week’s blog is to do with Black History Month. I think it is important to celebrate the lives of those who changed the world, despite adversity and all of the bad events that occurred in their lives, some managed to achieve their status as being the first black author or poet, to the first politician, from the first Mathematician to the first Aviator, and there is so many more that have overcome bigotry, racism and being slaves, etc…


Phillis Wheatley was to become a first as she was to become the first African American female poet that got published. Phillis was born in Senegal or Gambia in 1753. As a young child of eight she was brought over to the United States as a slave in 1761 on a ship which she had boarded called ‘The Phillis.’

She was then bought by a wealthy family in Boston and it was there she was given their surname Wheatley. No-one knows her real name, so she was given the name Phillis by the Wheatley family because that was the name on the ship that had brought her over to the states.

The Wheatley family soon became aware of how bright and intelligent she was, and even though it is not common for slaves, especially female slaves to be educated, that Susanna and her children helped to educate her. She proved to be an outstanding student, which she excelled in numerous subjects and prove to be an excellent scholar and the Wheatley’s had encouraged her to pursue writing and had allowed her to abandon her slave duties. It was not until 1773 her book of poems of various subjects that catapulted her to stardom as she became the most famous African American in the world at that time.

Interesting Facts

  • The Wheatley’s names were John and Susanna Wheatley.
  • Phillis had been kidnapped as an eight-year-old in Africa and brought to America to be sold. She was brought over to Boston on an enslaved person ship.
  • She was purchased as a slave by John Wheatley, for his wife Susanna, even though she was in poor health.
  • She couldn’t speak any English when she came to the Wheatley family.
  • African Americans were discouraged and intimidated from learning how to read and write.
  • Even though she was supposed to be a slave for Susanna, it was Susanna who chose to educate the young girl, even though Phillis’ health was not particularly good, but her intelligence was difficult to ignore.
  • Susanna Wheatley and her husband John, and their own children all played a role in Phillis’ education. They taught her to read and write and she studied Latin, Greek, English, Ancient history, literature, and mythology.
  • By the time Phillis was 12 she published her first poem. It was published in the Newport Mercury. Its title was On Messrs. Hussey and Coffin.
  • Her only book was titled Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral. Publishers in America did not want to publish the book because it was written by a slave.
  • Susanna Wheatley used her connections in England to get Phillis’ book published. It became popular in England and soon it became popular in America in the Thirteen Colonies as well.
  • While Phillis Wheatley was the first African American to have a book of poems published, she was also the first slave to have one published as well. She was only the 3rd American woman to have a book of poems published.
  • She was invited to George Washington’s house for a private reading of her poem “To His Excellency, George Washington”.
  • Phillis was the first African American woman to make a living from her writings.
  • Phillis traveled to London, England to promote her work, but when she returned to America several of the Wheatley’s had died. Susanna died in 1774 and John died in 1778, followed by Mary Wheatley (John and Susanna’s daughter) the same year.
  • When John Wheatley died Phillis was freed, according to his will.
  • Phillis tried to publish another book that was unsuccessful. Because her work often included subjects on the Revolutionary War, when it ended her career floundered as well.
  • Phillis married John Peters with whom she had three children. Two of them died in infancy.
  • Phillis’ husband was incarcerated for debt and sent to debtors’ prison in 1784, and Phillis was left to work as a maid in a boarding house to support her infant son.
  • Phillis Wheatley died in poverty at the age of 31, on December 5th, 1784. Her son died a few hours later.

On Imagination

On Imagination is one of Phillis Wheatley’s poems

Thy various works, imperial queen, we see,
 How bright their forms! how deck’d with pomp by thee!
Thy wond’rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.

 From Helicon’s refulgent heights attend,
Ye sacred choir and my attempts befriend:
To tell her glories with a faithful tongue,
Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song.

 Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies,
Till some lov’d object strikes her wand’ring eyes,
Whose silken fetters all the senses bind,
And soft captivity involves the mind.

Imagination! who can sing thy force?
Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?
Soaring through air to find the bright abode,
Th’ empyreal palace of the thund’ring God,
We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,
And leave the rolling universe behind:
From star to star the mental optics rove,
Measure the skies, and range the realms above.
There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,
Or with new worlds amaze th’ unbounded soul.

Though Winter frowns to Fancy’s raptur’d eyes
The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise;
The frozen deeps may break their iron bands,
And bid their waters murmur o’er the sands.
Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign,
And with her flow’ry riches deck the plain;
Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round,
And all the forest may with leaves be crown’d:
Show’rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose.

Such is thy pow’r, nor are thine orders vain,
O thou the leader of the mental train:
In full perfection all thy works are wrought,
And thine the sceptre o’er the realms of thought.
Before thy throne the subject-passions bow,
Of subject-passions sov’reign ruler thou;
At thy command joy rushes on the heart,
And through the glowing veins the spirits dart.

Fancy might now her silken pinions try
To rise from earth, and sweep th’ expanse on high:
From Tithon’s bed now might Aurora rise,
Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies,
While a pure stream of light o’erflows the skies.
The monarch of the day I might behold,
And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold,

But I reluctant to leave the pleasing views,
Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse;
Winter austere forbids me to aspire,
And northern tempests damp the rising fire;
They chill the tides of Fancy’s flowing sea,
Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay.

Thank you for stopping by and taking the time to read my blog. See you all next week.

Down at the Library

Hi everyone i hope you are all keeping busy and staying well. I thought i would do one of my own poems this week, as its been a while since my last poem, anyway I hope you like it.

Down at the library
Is where I love to be?
It is nothing new,
For that’s where…
You will find me,

I open a book,
To have a look,
And See what
Adventure is…
About to begin.

From fables of old,
To finding some gold,
Or… could it be?
An adventure at sea.

Slaying dragons,
Or firing cannons,
We have a ball,
With fairy tales and all.

Jumping through
To an unknown world,
That will have your head,
Spinning in a whirl.

I flick through each page,
As I start to engage.
In every stage.
Of the Dark Age,

To marrying my prince,
Whatever it is…
I don’t stand a chance,
At first glance.

By Aria

Thank you for stopping by and taking the time to read my poem Down at the Library. look after yourselves and keep smiling and I will see you all next week.

Katharine Tynan: No Man’s Land

Hi everyone, todays post is a little different than just the normal poem. I am doing a little bio of Katharine Tynan as today is her birthday, she was born one hundred and sixty one years ago today.


Irish writer Katharine Tynan was born 23 January 1859 in Clondalkin, Dublin, to Andrew Cullen Tynan (a farmer) and Elizabeth (O’Reilly) Tynan she was one of twelve children, who was an exceptionally gifted poet and novelist. It was her father that was the main source of influence in her life, as he had encouraged her education, and to pursue her passion for reading and writing, and it was during her childhood that Katharine had started her quest of writing poetry.

Her first poem that got published was A Dream in 1878. This was to be her first piece, in a very long line of extraordinary pieces of work, that was to be published through her entire life. By the time 1931 came around, she would of wrote over one hundred novels, over a dozen books of poetry, a collection of twelve short stories, a variety of articles for the newspaper along with several volumes of autobiographies.

By the time she was in her mid twenties, Katharine had become a well-known public figure in Dublin’s literary circles. W. B. Yeats greatly admired Katharine’s work, and through the literary circles they forged a very close friendship, and in 1888 together they collaborated on poems and Ballads of Young Ireland. Yeats first major poem was based on Irish Mythology, The Wanderings of Oisin, and he puts it down to her influences.

Katharine married an English Barrister and novelist called Henry Hinkson in 1893. The couple moved from Ireland to set up home in West London and then went on to have three children two boys and one girl. She carried on writing until she died in 1931.

No Man’s Land

Not to an angel but a friend
He turned at the day’s bitter end.
It was so comforting to feel
Some one was near, to see him kneel
By the deep shell-hole’s edge: to know
He was not left to the fierce foe.

This soldier who had eased his head
And staunched the flow where it had bled,
Who made a pillow of his breast
Where the poor tossing head might rest,
Wore a young face he used to know
Yesterday, some time, long ago.

The night’s cold it was bitter enough,
But who shall keep the fierce Day off?
And must he lie, be burnt and baked
In the hot sands, with lips unslaked? —
Will no one give him dews and rain?
Lord, send the frozen night again!

But here’s the one who comforted!
No angel, but a boy instead,
Slender and young, above him leans:
The sands are changed to tender greens;
He hears the wind in the sycamore
Sing a low song by his mother’s door.

Such tender touches to his wound,
Such loving arms to clasp him round,
Until they find him the third day!
The stretcher-bearers heard him say,
Don’t leave me, Denis! I am here.’
Denis? But Denis died last year!

He will maintain that Denis was
Beside him in his bitter case,
Denis more beautiful and gay
Than in the dear, remembered day:
God sent no angel, but a friend
To save him at the bitter end.

Thank you for taking the time to read this weeks blog post. See you all next week.