Arts, Culture, Literature, Poetry

Poetry for Autumn: A collection


OCTOBER

31 October · El Alamein · John Jarmain

During World War Two, and towards the end of October in 1942, the Battle of El Alamein began in North Africa. The British commander Montgomery led the Eighth Army to victory over German Field Marshal Rommel’s Afrika Korps, and it proved to be a turning point in the war in Africa. An army officer and a war poet, John Jarmain wrote this poem a year after fighting at El Alamein. Tragically he was killed by shrapnel in Normandy in June 1944, when he was just thirty-three.

1

There are flowers now, they say, at Alamein;

Yes, flowers in the minefields now.

So those that come to view that vacant scene,

Where death remains and agony has been

Will find the lilies grow –

Flowers, and nothing that we know.

2

So they rang bells for us and Alamein,

Bells which we could not hear:

And to those that heard the bells, what could it mean,

That name of loss and pride, El Alamein?

– Not the murk and harm of war,

But their hope, their own warm prayer.

3

It will become a staid historic name,

That crazy sea of sand!

Like Troy or Agincourt its single fame

Will be the garland for our brow, our claim,

On us a fleck of glory to the end:

And there are dead will keep their holy ground.

4

But this is not the place that we recall,

The crowded desert crossed with foaming tracks,

The one blotched building, lacking half a wall,

The grey-faced men, sand powdered over all;

The tanks, the guns, the trucks,

The black, dark-smoking wrecks.

5

So be it: none but us has known that land:

El Alamein will still be only ours

And those ten days of chaos in the sand.

Others will come who cannot understand,

Will halt beside the rusty minefield wires

And find there – flowers.

John Jarmain’s poem “El Alamein” is a powerful piece of World War II poetry that explores the contrast between the soldiers’ lived experience of the battle and the subsequent public memory and commemoration of the event. Jarmain himself served as an anti-tank gunner in the battle, lending an authentic, personal voice to the work he wrote.

The poem is primarily structured around a fundamental contrast. Jarmain highlights the profound difference between those who fought and their intensely personal and harsh memories, versus the distant, often celebratory, and ultimately inaccurate public perception.

. Public View: The public hears “bells for us and Alamein” and sees the name as one of “loss and pride” and “hope, their own warm prayer,” reducing the battle to a “staid historic name.”

. Soldiers’ Reality: The soldiers remember the “murk and harm of war,” the “crowded desert crossed with foaming tracks,” and the “black, dark-smoking wrecks.”

Transformation of the Landscape is described through the Garden Metaphor. The poem opens and closes with the image of flowers growing in the desert, particularly the asphodel lilies appearing in the minefields.

. Present/Future Peace: The flowers represent peace, healing, and the desert returning to a natural state of beauty, covering the scars of war. The minefields becoming a garden is a complex metaphor for the acceptance of a future where nature reclaims the destruction.

. Nostalgia/Loss of Understanding: This peace, however, comes at a cost for the veteran. The beauty means “nothing that we know,” as the “others will come who cannot understand” the “ten days of chaos in the sand.” The new beauty makes their horrific experience seem unreal.

Jarmain emphasises the exclusivity of experience, highlighting that the true and harsh reality of the battle is known only by those who were there. The final lines stress this isolation:

“So be it: none but us has known that land: / El Alamein will still be only ours / And those ten days of chaos in the sand.”

The poem is composed of three stanzas, each with an alternating rhyme scheme (often abaabb), giving it a slightly formal yet conversational tone that suits the pastoral tradition it draws upon.

The poem is structured upon a juxtaposition. The language shifts dramatically between the two perspectives. The public memory is conveyed in abstract and elevated terms (“loss and pride,” “garland,” “glory”), while the private memory is stark, visceral, and specific (“blotched building, lacking half a wall,” “grey-faced men,” “dark-smoking wrecks”).

Jarmain compares the future memory of El Alamein in classical allusion to historical battles like “Troy or Agincourt,” suggesting that over time, the real suffering will be stripped away, leaving only a legendary, heroic framework.

In Summary

“El Alamein” is a meditation on memory, time, and the pain of seeing a life-altering event reduced to a footnote or a hollow victory celebration. Jarmain accepts the eventual peace – the flowers – but insists on the absolute truth of the soldiers’ “chaos in the sand,” which remains exclusively theirs.


29 October · Who Has Seen the Wind? · Christina Rossetti

These deceptively simple words by Rossetti communicate a sense of the invisible forces that animate the world – forces which we cannot see, but we know must be there.

1

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you:

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing thro’.

2

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I:

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

The poem “Who Has Seen the Wind?” by Christina Rossetti is a simple yet profound contemplation on the mysteries of nature and the existence of things that are invisible to the human eye.

The central focus is the wind, which no one can literally see. Rossetti addresses this directly with the opening question, “Who has seen the wind?” and the immediate answer, “Neither I nor you.” The poem then shifts to defining the wind’s presence through its effects on the natural world.

The wind’s existence is proven by its impact and the evidence in nature:

. “When the leaves hang trembling, / The wind is passing thro’.” The movement of the leaves serves as physical proof of an unseen force. The word “trembling” suggests a subtle power or awe inspired by the wind.

. “When the trees bow down their heads, / The wind is passing by.” The bowing of the trees implies a greater force, perhaps suggesting an act of submission or reverence by nature to this unseen power.

The wind is often interpreted as a metaphor for God, spirit, or other intangible aspects of life. Just as the wind cannot be seen but its power is undeniable through its effects, the poem suggests that certain vital realities in life are known through faith or experience rather than physical sight.

The poem is comprised of two simple quatrains (four-line stanzas) with an AABB rhyme scheme, a simple rhythm, and straightforward language, making it accessible, and easily understood. This simplicity gives the deep philosophical question a light and almost childlike wonder.

Rossetti explores the idea that seeing isn’t the only way of knowing, emphasising how we perceive and understand the world through the consequences of unseen forces.


28 October · The New Colossus · Emma Lazarus

On 28 October 1886 an official ceremony of dedication marked the opening of the Statue of Liberty – a gift from the people of France to America. One of the most instantly recognisable symbols of America, the statue depicts the robed Roman goddess Libertas, the embodiment of liberty. The American poet Emma Lazarus wrote her sonnet “The New Colossus” in 1883. The poem was engraved on a bronze plaque and mounted on the pedestal of the statue in 1903.

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbour that twin cities frame.

‘Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!’ cries she

With silent lips. ‘Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’

Emma Lazarus’s 1883 sonnet, “The New Colossus,” is one of the most famous and enduring literary tributes to the Statue of Liberty and the American ideal of welcoming immigrants. It is perhaps best known for its stirring lines, “Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”

The poem immediately establishes a contrast with the ancient Colossus of Rhodes, a Greek statue symbolising military might, strength, and conquest. The opening line, “Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, / With conquering limbs astride from land to land,” rejects this old-world model of empire.

Lazarus redefines the purpose of a grand statue. The Statue of Liberty is instead named the “Mother of Exiles,” a symbol of sanctuary and welcome. The “torch” she holds is not for war but a “beacon-hand” that “Glows world-wide welcome.”

The most impactful part of the poem is the statue’s own declaration, which transforms the monument from a static object into an active and compassionate host. She calls for the:

. “tired, your poor”

. “huddled masses yearning to breathe free”

. “wretched refuse of your teeming shore”

. “homeless, tempest-tost”

The final line, “I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” reinforces the image of the United States as a place of opportunity and a final destination for those seeking a better life. The “golden door” is the metaphorical entry point to America, guarded by the welcoming light of liberty.

The poem is a sonnet (14 lines), specifically a variation of the Italian or Petrarchan sonnet, structured into an octet (eight lines) and a sestet (six lines).

Lazarus wrote the poem for an art exhibition fundraiser to secure money for the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal. While the statue itself was a gift from France, the pedestal needed American funding. It was inscribed on a bronze plaque and mounted inside the pedestal in 1903.

Written at a time when large waves of immigrants, particularly from Southern and Eastern Europe, were arriving in the US, the poem gave the Statue of Liberty a deep and lasting meaning as a symbol of immigration and hope.


26 October · from Auguries of Innocence · William Blake

Though “Auguries of Innocence” is thought to have been written in the first few years of the nineteenth century, the poem was not published until 1866 – long after William Blake had died. These four lines are characteristically enigmatic of Blake: each line contains a paradox, with a tiny grain of sand holding a world in it, and eternity lasting just sixty minutes.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour

William Blake’s famous quatrain, often referred to as the opening lines of “Auguries of Innocence,” is a powerful statement about perception, spirituality, and the interconnectedness of the universe.

The lines suggest that the profoundest truths can be found in the smallest and most commonplace elements of existence, a central theme in Blake’s spiritual and artistic vision.

. “To see a World in a Grain of Sand” and “And a Heaven in a Wild Flower”: These lines emphasise the idea of microcosm and macrocosm. Blake asserts that the whole structure of the universe (“World,” “Heaven”) is reflected or contained within its tiniest components (“grain of sand,” “Wild Flower”). This is a call to spiritual perception – to look beyond the superficial appearance of things and recognise their infinite nature.

. “Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand” and “And Eternity in an hour”: These lines focus on the mastery of time and space through an elevated state of consciousness. “Infinity” (endless space) and “Eternity” (endless time) are typically considered beyond human grasp, but Blake suggests that through innocence, imagination, and heightened vision, these cosmic concepts can be comprehended and experienced in a brief moment and a tiny space. The juxtaposition of the vast with the small (Infinity/palm, Eternity/hour) creates a striking paradox that challenges conventional reality.

This quatrain perfectly encapsulates Blake’s unique Romantic-era philosophy, particularly his belief in:

1). Imagination as the Divine Power: Blake believed that imagination was the primary human faculty – the means by which one could pierce the veil of physical reality and perceive the divine truth. The lines are essentially a description of what this imaginative vision achieves.

2). Rejection of Rationalism: He often criticised the purely rational and empirical worldview, which he felt blinded people to the spiritual dimensions of life. The poem encourages a way of seeing that transcends mere sensory data.

3). Innocence and Experience: As the opening to Auguries of Innocence, the quatrain sets the stage for a poem that explores the moral and spiritual insights available to those who possess the quality of “Innocence” – a state of pure, non-cynical, intuitive perception.

In summary, the four lines are a concise, powerful expression of Blake’s conviction that the divine and the infinite are immanent (indwelling) in the everyday world and accessible to anyone who chooses to look with a spiritual, imaginative eye.


21 October · from The Battle of Trafalgar · William King

The Battle of Trafalgar was a naval battle fought between British forces and the combined navies of Spain and France on 21 October 1805. Before the battle, the commander of the British Navy, Admiral Horatio Nelson, sent a terse communication to his forces: “England expects that every man will do his duty”. Though Nelson was killed during the battle, the outcome was a resounding victory for the British, who destroyed the French and Spanish forces without losing a ship.

The last great signal Nelson did unfold,

Albion, record! in characters of gold!

‘England expects that ev’ry man this day,

Will do his duty and his worth display.’

Warm’d at the words, brave Nelson’s gallant crew

Mow’d down whole hosts! and heaps of heroes slew;

Like grateful sons – obeyed their gallant chief

Whilst the lost hero filled their souls with grief.

“The last great signal Nelson did unfold” refers to Admiral Lord Nelson’s famous signal sent to the fleet before the Battle of Trafalgar, a moment steeped in historical and dramatic significance.

The line specifically references the iconic flag signal hoisted from Nelson’s flagship, HMS Victory, just before the battle on October 21, 1805. The signal read:

“England expects that every man will do his duty.”

. “The last great signal”: This emphasises the climactic nature of the moment. It was the final, most crucial piece of communication and inspiration given by Nelson before the decisive engagement. Since Nelson died later in the battle, it also holds an air of prophetic finality – it was his last great directive to his men.

. “Nelson did unfold”: This conveys the physical action of raising the flags (unfolding them) but also suggests the unveiling of a grand strategy or an ultimate moral principle. The signal wasn’t just a command; it was a profound appeal to national pride, loyalty, and the expectation of patriotic courage. The signal served to galvanise the collective will of the British fleet. Duty and expectation are evident in the poem. King frames the battle not just as a military engagement but as a moral test of the English sailors.

Knowing that Nelson was killed at Trafalgar, the phrase “the last great signal” also carries an element of pathos and dramatic irony. It is a glorious moment immediately preceding his death, linking his ultimate act of leadership with his personal sacrifice for Britain.

Taken in isolation, “the last great signal Nelson did unfold” functions as a highly charged, dramatic, and symbolic line that captures the essence of Nelson’s heroic leadership, the gravity of the Battle of Trafalgar, and the profound theme of patriotic duty central to William King’s epic poem.


20 October · The Guest House · Rumi (translation by Reynold A. Nicholson)

In this poem it almost sounds as if the thirteenth-century Persian poet Rumi is telling his readers to embrace dark thoughts, shame, and malice. But what he is really saying is to “invite them in”; don’t ignore your feelings. They may be of some higher significance.

The Guest House

1

This being human is a guest house,

Every morning a new arrival.

2

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

Some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

3

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honourably,

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

4

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

5

Be grateful for whoever comes,

Because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Rumi’s poem “The Guest House” is a widely celebrated and profound piece of Sufi poetry, often used in contexts like mindfulness and therapeutic settings.

The central theme is built upon an extended metaphor:

. “This being human is a guest house.” The human self, the body, or more specifically, the mind/consciousness, is the guest house.

. Emotions and thoughts are the “guests.” These are feelings and experiences that arrive daily, such as “A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness.”

The poem’s main message is one of radical acceptance and non-resistance to one’s internal experiences:

1). Welcome Everything: Rumi instructs the reader to “Welcome and entertain them all!” This is a call to greet every emotion – pleasant or unpleasant – with openness, instead of fighting, suppressing, or judging them.

2). The Value of Difficult Guests: Rumi specifically addresses the difficult emotions, like “a crowd of sorrows” or “The dark thought, the shame, the malice.” He urges the reader to “treat each guest honourably” and even to “meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.”

3). Growth and Transformation: The poem suggests that difficult experiences are not merely annoyances but serve a higher purpose. A “crowd of sorrows” that “violently sweep your house / empty of its furniture” may actually be “clearing you out / for some new delight.” This implies that pain and struggle are catalysts for growth, wisdom, and inner purification.

4). Divine Guidance: The final lines provide a spiritual context, suggesting that every “guest” has been “sent / as a guide from beyond.” This aligns with Sufi philosophy, which sees all of life’s occurrences as purposeful and a means of spiritual development or a teaching sent by the divine.

In essence, “The Guest House” encourages readers to view their inner emotional life as a dynamic, ever-changing space, and to practice an attitude of profound hospitality toward every aspect of their humanity. By accepting and observing our feelings without attachment or aversion, we allow them to pass through naturally and fulfil their teaching role.

As a Sufi mystic and using the extended metaphor of the human self as a home for all emotions and experiences, Rumi uses this to teach acceptance and mindfulness, suggesting that each passing emotion holds a divine purpose for our spiritual growth. Resistance to painful emotions only amplifies suffering.

It is worth noting that the popular English version translation is an interpretation rather than a literal translation of Rumi’s original 13th-century Persian work. While widely appreciated in the West, this version is unlikely to capture the deeper Islamic nuances of the original Farsi text. Nonetheless, the poem offers a spiritual framework for accepting life’s challenges as part of a larger plan.


19 October · A Prayer for Travellers · Anon.

Gaelic is a Celtic language spoken in Ireland, and this is a traditional Irish Gaelic prayer. Celtic literature often uses natural imagery to illustrate God interacting with his people, as can be seen in this poem. “May the road rise up to meet you” wishes travellers good luck for their upcoming journeys.

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

The rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

The verse beginning with “May the road rise up to meet you” is a widely known traditional Irish blessing (or prayer), often used to wish someone well on a journey, or during times of transition.

The blessing is characterised by its use of natural imagery and its overall tone is one of warmth, provision, and spiritual safeguarding. It uses poetic metaphors of the Irish landscape to convey deep wishes for a successful and protected life journey.

1). The Road and the Wind                    

“May the road rise up to meet you.”

. Literal Meaning: This is a wish for an easy journey. If the road rises to meet you, you wouldn’t have to struggle up a hill; the path itself becomes level or even pushes you forward.

. Metaphorical Meaning: It symbolises a wish for good fortune and that obstacles in life’s journey will be minimised or removed. Some Irish scholars suggest this line is a mistranslation from the original Irish (Gaelic) phrase, which they say literally translates to “May you succeed on the road” or “May the road succeed with you.”

“May the wind be always at your back.”

. Literal Meaning: This is a classic wish for favourable conditions and a smooth, effortless journey. The wind pushing you forward makes the work easier.

. Spiritual Interpretation: The wind is sometimes interpreted as a reference to the Holy Spirit or God’s powerful guidance and assistance, echoing the account of the Spirit coming as a “mighty wind” in the Bible (Pentecost).

2). The Sun and the Rain

“May the sun shine warm upon your face;”

Literal Meaning: This wishes for happiness, joy, and comfort. A warm sun is the opposite of a cold, dark, or difficult time.

Spiritual Interpretation: The warmth of the sun is likened to the tender mercy of God, the “rising sun from heaven,” bringing light and hope.

“The rains fall soft upon your fields.”

Literal Meaning: This is a wish for prosperity and provision. Rain is essential for crops to grow, but “soft” rain prevents destructive flooding. It’s a desire for the right amount of sustenance and growth without hardship.

Spiritual Interpretation: The soft rain is seen as a symbol of God’s provision and the nourishment needed for spiritual and material growth.

3). The Conclusion

“And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.”

Literal Meaning: This is a final, profound wish for safety, protection, and security during the separation of the speaker and the recipient. It emphasises that the recipient is never alone.

Spiritual Interpretation: Being held in the “palm of His hand” is an ultimate expression of divine care and love, representing the safest place one can be, completely sheltered from harm.

Cultural Context

The blessing is characteristic of Celtic spirituality, which often expressed a deep and intimate connection between the natural world and the divine. The author is unknown, but the sentiments reflect the communal, faith-based life of ancient Irish communities. Today, it remains one of the most beloved expressions of goodwill and is used in a variety of ceremonies and farewells.


16 October · Someone · Walter de la Mare

The narrator of this poem is roused from his sleep by a knock at the door but, when he goes to answer, he realises that there is nobody there. The descriptions of the natural world outside the door, however, suggests that the narrator is not really alone, as the nocturnal world is full of creatures.

Someone

Someone came knocking

At my wee, small door;

Someone came knocking;

I’m sure, sure, sure;

I listened, I opened,

I looked to left and right,

But nought there was a stirring

In the still dark night;

Only the busy beetle

Tap-tapping in the wall,

Only from the forest

The screech-owl’s call,

Only the cricket whistling

While the dewdrops fall,

So I know not who came knocking,

At all, at all, at all.

“Someone” is a short, mysterious, and atmospheric poem by Walter de la Mare. It is often compared to his famous work “The Listeners.”

The poem features a narrator who’s inside their “wee, small door” at night. They hear a definite knock and open the door, fully expecting to find a person.

Upon opening the door, the narrator finds no one stirring in the “still dark night.” The speaker is left puzzled, concluding: “So I know not who came knocking, / At all, at all, at all.”

The central theme is the unresolved mystery of the knocking. De la Mare specialises in creating an atmosphere where the everyday meets the uncanny, leaving the reader (and the speaker) to wonder about the boundary between reality and imagination.

The speaker is alone in their small dwelling at night; the silence is broken only by the mysterious knock – which ultimately emphasises their solitude when no one is found outside.

Instead of a person, the speaker only finds the sounds of the natural world and the presence of nature: the “busy beetle. Tap-tapping in the wall”; “The screech-owl’s call”; “The cricket whistling”. These sounds contrast with the human expectation of a visitor and suggest that nature may be the true “someone” that came knocking, or perhaps the source of the noise.

But given de la Mare’s general style as a poet, the “someone” could be a suggestion of a ghostly presence, a spirit, or a creature of folklore, challenging a purely rational explanation. The simplicity of the language contributes to a childlike sense of wonder and slight fear in the face of the unknown.

The language used is very straightforward and accessible. The poem uses repetition, especially in the first and last lines, to emphasise the certainty of the initial sound and the confusion of the final outcome:

. “Someone came knocking; I’m sure-sure-sure”

. “At all, at all, at all”.

This repetition gives the poem a musical-rhyme quality, which heightens the mysterious mood. The rhythm is clear and driving, anapestic* and consistent. This makes it memorable and almost chant-like.

The imagery is dark, simple, and auditory, focusing heavily on sound: “still dark night,” “tap-tapping,” “screech-owl’s call,” “cricket whistling”. The focus on sound amplifies the quiet of the night and the impact of the initial knock.

In essence, Walter de la Mare uses a very simple, domestic scenario – a knock on the door – to explore profound themes of mystery, solitude, and the sometimes-unsettling presence of the natural world encroaching upon the human sphere.

*An anapest is a metrical foot in verse that consists of two unstressed syllables followed by one stressed syllable. The rhythm is often represented as da-da-DUM.

Examples of anapestic words include:

. un-der-STAND

. in-com-PLETE

. con-tra-DICT

When a line of poetry is described as having an anapestic meter, it means the primary rhythmic pattern is made up of these anapests. This meter often creates a light, galloping, or rolling rhythm.


15 October · A Shropshire Lad, XIII · A. E. Housman

This poem was published in A. E. Housman’s A Shropshire Lad and, like many of the poems in that collection, it is narrated by a speaker looking back on his youth – even though, on this occasion, he is only twenty-two.

When I was one-and-twenty

I heard a wise man say,

‘Give crowns and pounds and guineas

But not your heart away;

Give pearls away and rubies

But keep your fancy free.’

But I was one-and-twenty,

No use to talk to me.

..

When I was one-and-twenty

I heard him say again,

‘The heart out of the bosom

Was never given in vain;

‘Tis paid with sighs a plenty

And sold for endless rue.’

And I am two-and-twenty,

And oh, ‘tis true, ‘tis true.

A Shropshire Lad XIII, often titled “When I Was One-and-Twenty” from A. E. Housman’s collection A Shropshire Lad (1896), is one of the most famous poems in the series. It’s a short, lyrical monologue that encapsulates many of Housman’s recurring themes: lost youth, the bitterness of experience, and the futility of emotional attachment.

The central theme is the speaker’s regret at having ignored sound advice about love. The wisdom of regret is apparent. The poem presents a clear opposition between the “wise man” who gives counsel and the “callow youth” who dismisses it. The advice is simple and stark: do not give away your heart (“Give crowns and pounds and guineas / But not your heart away”).

A year later (at twenty-two), the speaker finds the wise man’s words tragically confirmed through the price of experience. He has given his heart and suffered the inevitable pain, realising that while he refused to listen before, “‘Tis true, ‘tis true.”

Housman uses monetary imagery – “crowns and pounds and guineas” – to set up a contrast. Material wealth can be given freely, but the emotional cost of giving one’s heart is far greater. The heart is not a replaceable commodity or trivial thing.

The poem is notable for its apparent simplicity. It uses a straightforward structure and common language, mimicking a folk song or ballad, which contributes to its accessibility and memorability.

Taking the form of a dramatic monologue, the speaker narrates two separate encounters. The direct speech of the “wise man” (“said he”) acts as an internal dialogue, emphasising the starkness of the advice.

The poem consists of three four-line stanzas (quatrains) with a simple ABCB rhyme scheme (though the first stanza is close to an AABB rhyme with twenty/plenty). The regular rhythm and simple rhymes give the poem a deceptively light, musical quality, which ironically contrasts with the heavy and melancholic subject matter.

The repeated phrase “‘Tis true, ‘tis true” is the emotional crux of the poem. It functions as an emphatic and rueful acknowledgement of his folly, underscoring the finality of his heartbreak.

The poem’s pathos comes from the dramatic irony that the reader (and the older speaker) knows the young man is making a mistake, but the young man can only learn it through suffering. The tone shifts from the carefree dismissiveness of the twenty-one-year-old to the world-weary regret of the twenty-two-year-old.

As with many of the poems in the collection, the speaker is the persona of the “Shropshire Lad” (sometimes named Terence Hearsay). This character often embodies the themes of youthful disillusionment, the brevity of happiness, and a stoic endurance of life’s hardships.

The poem reflects Housman’s generally pessimistic and stoic worldview. In Housman’s universe, time and experience inevitably lead to loss and pain. Love is not a source of lasting joy but a source of vulnerability and “endless rue.”

The poem suggests that the only true wisdom is the avoidance of pain, and that to love is to expose oneself to inevitable suffering. The wise man’s advice to keep the heart “safe and sound” speaks to a cynical, but pragmatically self-protective, philosophy.

In summary, A Shropshire Lad XIII is a deceptively simple lyric poem. Its power lies in its succinct and rhythmic presentation of a universal human experience: the painful transition from youthful optimism to adult disillusionment, where the wisdom of the old is only recognised after one has already paid the high price of heartbreak.


12 October · Lament of an Arawak Child · Pamela Mordecai

On 12 October 1492, Christopher Columbus landed on the continent now known as America. Though he described the continent as his “discovery”, he was far from the first person to step foot there. In poetry, as in common usage, a “lament” is an outpouring of grief. Mordecai’s poem refuses to focus on what Columbus and other colonial figures thought they had found, but instead gives voice to the people who lost what they once had.

1

Once I played with the hummingbirds

and sang songs to the sea

I told my secrets to the waves

and they told theirs to me.

2

Now there are no more hummingbirds

the sea’s songs are all sad

for strange men came and took this land

and plundered all we had.

3

They made my people into slaves

they worked us to the bone

they battered us and tortured us

and laughed to hear us groan.

4

Today we’ll take a long canoe

and set sail on the sea

we’ll steer our journey by the stars

and find a new country.

“Lament of an Arawak Child” is a poem by Jamaican-born writer Pamela Mordecai that reflects on the devastation faced by the Arawak people after the arrival of Christopher Columbus. The poem is poignant and looks at the consequences of colonialism, including genocide, slavery, and the destruction of culture.

The poem tells its story in three sections, each marked by a word related to time: “Once,” “Now”, and “Today”. Once describes the happy and vibrant life of the Arawak people before the arrival of the Europeans. It paints a picture of a flourishing culture where nature was celebrated and the “sea’s songs” were full of life.

In the Now phase, the mood shifts dramatically as it details the arrival of “strange men” who plundered the land and enslaved the people. This section marks the beginning of genocide, bringing sadness to the seas and silencing the hummingbirds.

The final section Today reflects on the legacy of this history, highlighting the injustice and suffering that remains. It concludes with the child’s perspective, feeling the weight of their stolen land and heritage. The poem is set against the historical backdrop of October 12, 1492, when Columbus arrived in the Caribbean. Historical accounts describe how the Spanish enslaved and systematically decimated the Arawak population through disease, forced labour, and execution. The poem serves as a powerful reminder of this tragic history, which is often overlooked in mainstream education.


10 October · Give · Simon Armitage

10 October is World Homeless Day, an international day of awareness for the global problem of homelessness and extreme and absolute poverty. Simon Armitage, who was appointed the UK Poet Laureate in May 2019, addresses in this poem the idea that other people’s homelessness can seem like an inconvenience to us. But it is far worse, he tells us, to be the one without a home.

Portraying homelessness, Armitage urges deeper compassion through a direct and articulate plea for change.

Give

1

Of all the public places, dear,

to make a scene, I’ve chosen here.

2

Of all the doorways in the world to choose to sleep, I’ve chosen yours.

I’m on the street, under the stars.

3

For coppers I can dance or sing,

For silver – swallow swords, eat fire.

For gold – escape from locks and chains.

4

It’s not as if I’m holding out

for frankincense or myrrh, just change.

5

You give me tea. That’s big of you.

I’m on my knees. I beg of you.

Simon Armitage’s poem “Give” adopts the voice of a homeless person to challenge and provoke the reader’s complacency toward those living on the streets through a dramatic monologue. The poem uses a range of literary devices, shifting tones, and ambiguous language to create a powerful and unsettling narrative.

The poem is a dramatic monologue, with a homeless person addressing an unseen “you”. This form gives a voice to someone often ignored or silenced, forcing the reader to engage directly with their perspective and feelings.

The tone of the poem alternates between bitter resentment, desperation, and sarcasm. This is particularly evident in the final stanza, where the speaker’s sarcastic remark, “That’s big of you,” is immediately followed by a desperate plea, “I beg of you”.

The stark juxtaposition of “big of you” and “I beg of you” in the final stanza highlights the speaker’s complex emotions. The words sound similar, which jars the reader and emphasises the vast power imbalance between the homeless person and the person offering a small kindness.

Divided into five stanzas of uneven length, the poem could reflect the narrator’s unstable life or the disrupted nature of their situation.

The opening stanzas introduce ambiguity. The word “dear” could suggest an intimate relationship, but the context of “making a scene” quickly becomes confrontational, subverting the reader’s initial expectation of a romantic poem. The sarcastic tone persists throughout, criticising society’s superficial and resentful charity.

The request for “just change” has a double meaning. The speaker is asking for loose money but could also be demanding a larger “change” in attitudes and their overall situation.

The homeless person describes performing circus-like acts for money, such as swallowing swords and eating fire. This theatrical imagery is contrasted with their dire reality, revealing the extent and absurd lengths they would go to for small change.

Contrasting imagery is present in the second stanza; the romantic image of sleeping “under the stars” is contrasted with the grim reality of homelessness. The starry night, typically beautiful, becomes a symbol of a cold and exposed life.

The central theme is the experience of homelessness and the demeaning nature of begging and poverty. The poem highlights the desperation and vulnerability of the homeless, who are asked to perform for charity.

The direct address to “you” or the second person forces the reader to confront their own attitudes towards social responsibility and potential guilt regarding how they treat homeless people. Armitage challenges the reader to consider if they are doing enough and exposes the limitations of small, symbolic gestures of help, such as offering a cup of tea.

The speaker’s shifting tone reveals their inner conflict between pride and desperation. Though they feel the need to perform and beg, they also harbour bitterness toward the social conditions that have led them to this point.

The poem explores the vast power imbalances between the privileged and the poor. The speaker initially attempts to maintain some control through their sarcastic and theatrical tone but is ultimately reduced to a stark, humiliating plea on their knees.


7 October · Thumbprint · Eve Merriam

No two thumbprints are the same, and here the poet expands this thought to celebrate the fact that we are all unique and have our own individual role to play in history.

Thumbprint

On the pad of my thumb

are whorls, whirls, wheels

in a unique design:

mine alone.

What a treasure to own!

My own flesh, my own feelings.

No other, however grand or base,

can ever contain the same.

My signature,

Thumbing the pages of my time.

My universe key,

my singularity.

Impress, implant,

I am myself,

of all my atom parts I am the sum.

And out of my blood and my brain

I make my own interior weather,

my own sun and rain.

Imprint my mark upon the world

whatever I shall become.

Eve Merriam’s poem “Thumbprint” uses the physical uniqueness of a thumbprint as an extended metaphor for the speaker’s personal individuality and sense of self. The poem explores themes of identity, personal agency, and the impact of one’s life on the world.

The central theme is the celebration of the self. The speaker treasures the thumbprints “whorls, whirls, wheels” because it is “mine alone”. This design symbolises a person’s unique and irreplaceable identity, which is a source of pride for the speaker.

The poem connects the speaker’s identity to her experiences and emotions, declaring “My own flesh, my own feelings”. It asserts that personal experiences contribute to who a person becomes. The powerful lines, “I make my own interior weather, / my own sun and rain,” emphasise the speaker’s control over her own emotional state and perception of reality.

The thumbprint also serves as a symbol for the impact an individual has on the world. The speaker vows to “Imprint my mark upon the world, / whatever I shall become,” using the physical action of leaving a print to represent a legacy. This implies a desire to make a lasting impression as a result of a unique life.”

Merriam uses several literary devices to develop the poem’s meaning.

The extended metaphor is utilised. The entire poem is built on the comparison between a thumbprint and a person’s identity and persona. This allows the speaker to explore complex ideas about the self through a tangible, everyday object.

In addition to the extended metaphor, the poem uses other metaphors to describe the thumbprint, calling it a “treasure,” a “signature,” and a “universe key”. The phrase “interior weather” is a metaphor for one’s mood or thoughts.

The poem employs clever wordplay in the form of puns. For instance, the word “own” is used to suggest both possession and self-identity, while “impress” means both to make a mark and to have an effect on someone.

Alliteration is used. The use of repeating sounds creates a pleasing rhythm. Examples include “whorls, whirls, wheels” and “impress, implant”.

The poem also uses the literary device of assonance. The repetition of vowel sounds adds musicality to the lines, such as the repeating “i” sound in “Impress, implant” and the long “a” sound in “contain” and “same”.

The poem is a single, uninterrupted stanza, which gives it a continuous, flowing feel. The poem’s structure helps reflect the unity and wholeness of the individual.

The tone is generally prideful and celebratory, especially as the speaker reflects on her uniqueness.

There is a tonal shift in the poem. The first half focuses on the intimate pride the speaker feels in her thumbprint, while the second half broadens to a more hopeful tone about her future and her mark on the world.

In summary, “Thumbprint” prompts discussions on identity, societal expectations, and the emotional impact of external influences. It is an unabashed celebration of the individual and one’s unique identity, and the speaker is the centre of her own universe.


6 October · from The Tyndale Bible

The death by execution of William Tyndale took place in October 1536 and is commemorated on this day. A scholar and skilled writer, he was most notable for his translation of the Bible into English, the best part of a century before the King James Version which is based on his translation. Translations of the Bible into English at the time were strictly prohibited, and Tyndale was forced to flee; he lived for a while in Antwerp before he was tracked down by Henry VIII’s men and brought back to England. He was charged with heresy and burnt at the stake – all for trying to make the Bible more accessible. His final words were said to be: “Lord, open the king of England’s eyes.”

These lines come from Tyndale’s translation of the Book of Exodus and speak of the oppression of the Israelites:

‘And Moses and Aaron came in vnto Pharaoh, and saide vnto him, Thus saith the Lord God of the Hebrewes, How long wilt thou refuse to humble thy selfe before mee? let my people goe, that they may serue me.’

William Tyndale translated the Book of Exodus directly from the Hebrew text (with some assistance from the Latin Vulgate and Martin Luther’s German translation), a significant part of his 1530 Pentateuch (the first five books of the Old Testament), and used marginal notes to explain passages and critique the Roman Catholic Church and papal authority. His translation of Exodus aimed to make scripture accessible to the common person with a Protestant theological orientation, using clear English and introducing terms like “scapegoat”.

By making scripture available in English, Tyndale aimed to facilitate broader ecclesiological reform by allowing people to read and understand religious texts for themselves.

The Protestant orientation of Tyndale’s work and his critical annotations led to his books being declared heretical by King Henry VIII.

Tyndale was a hunted man and was eventually martyred for his work in 1536. His translation made them a key text for the English Reformation.


5 October · Autumn · T. E. Hulme

Hulme’s poem on autumn stands out as an exemplar of the modernist movement in poetry: written in free-verse, without rhyme, and leaving the reader to make sense of its images. What kind of meaningful exchange can occur between the solitary walker and the bright night sky?

Autumn

A touch of cold in the Autumn night –

I walked abroad,

And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge

Like a red-faced farmer.

I did not stop to speak, but nodded,

And round about were the wistful stars

With white faces like town children.

“Autumn” is a short, seven-line free-verse poem known for its concise vivid imagery and role as an early example of the Imagist movement. The poem captures a solitary moment in a rural landscape, where the speaker observes the moon and stars.

As a foundational Imagist poem (written in 1908), “Autumn” rejects elaborate, flowery language in favour of direct, precise imagery. The poem focuses on creating a sharp, clear picture in the reader’s mind.

The imagery is juxtaposed: the poem presents a striking contrast between rural and urban life.

. The moon: The “ruddy moon” is personified as a “red-faced farmer” leaning over a hedge. This creates a sense of familiarity and rootedness in the countryside setting, suggesting the harvest season. The redness of the moon is a natural phenomenon at sunset or sunrise but here is connected to the earthy, sun-weathered face of a farmer.

. The stars: In contrast, the stars are described as “wistful…With white faces like town children”. Their paleness and “wistful” expression suggest a sense of longing or sadness, perhaps from being removed from nature, like children in a grimy, smog filled city.

The speaker is a detached observer. Their action of “nodding” to the moon rather than stopping to speak reinforces the solitary, reflective mood of the scene. The poem is about a brief and personal encounter with nature during a moment of seasonal change. The “touch of cold” at the poem’s opening sets a sombre, melancholic tone. The poem conveys the contemplative mood of autumn, a time of endings and transition, reflecting on the natural cycle of decay and harvest.


2 October · Fall, Leaves, Fall · Emily Brontë

Emily Brontë was a poet and novelist who lived in the West Riding of Yorkshire, England. She is best known for her novel, Wuthering Heights, which was published in 1847.

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;

Lengthen night and shorten day;

Every leaf speaks bliss to me

Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow

Blossom where the rose should grow;

I shall sing when night’s decay

Ushers in a drearier day.

“Fall, leaves, fall,” celebrates the arrival of autumn and winter, finding beauty in decay and the shorter, darker days. Unlike many poets who romanticise spring and summer, Brontë’s work embraces the quiet, often-overlooked beauty of the colder seasons.

The poem begins with an embrace of the changing seasons and the imagery of falling leaves and dying flowers. The speaker welcomes the lengthening nights and shortening days, finding joy in the natural processes of autumn.

The final lines depict the speaker’s anticipation of winter, expressing happiness at the thought of snow replacing roses and welcoming the arrival of “a drearier day”.

Time and life dwindling away are always tried and true themes in stories or poems of change and renewal. What greater imagery and metaphor is there than the leaves falling from a colourful tree to remind us that life moves in cycles? We appreciate this cycle because, without the abbreviated days, there would be no appreciation of it.

“Every leaf speaks bliss to me” shows Brontë’s feeling towards the growing inevitability of our own lives: literally, that they grow shorter and the light leaves us for darkness. Every leaf that has fallen, every day that has gone by, has been bliss. Brontë relishes in the thankfulness and realisation of days past and looks toward the future.


1 October · The Road Not Taken · Robert Frost

This is among the most popular of Frost’s poems today, and its central image, of the road “less traveled by” has entered into common language as an alternative phrase to “off the beaten path”. The poem is a reflection on the necessity of choosing.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

2

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

3

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

4

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

“The Road Not Taken” is a reflective and ironic narrative about making choices, facing uncertainty, and how people attribute meaning to their decisions over time. First published in 1916, it is one of the most famous and widely misunderstood poems in American literature.

The poem describes a traveler encountering a fork in a road in an autumn wood. The traveler expresses a desire to experience both paths but must choose only one. After prolonged deliberation, examining one path as far as possible, the traveler selects the other, initially considering it to have “perhaps the better claim” because it seemed less worn. However, the speaker quickly acknowledges that the paths were similarly worn and equally covered with leaves that morning. Aware that one path leads to another, the traveler doubts the possibility of returning to the initial choice. Looking ahead to the future, the speaker anticipates recounting this decision by claiming to have chosen the “one less traveled by,” and attributing significance to that choice.

It is a poem of irony, not individualism. The Road Not Taken is often misinterpreted as a celebration of nonconformity, but Frost intended it as an ironic reflection on his friend Edward Thomas’ indecisiveness.

A key element of the poem is the speaker’s admission that the paths were essentially the same, challenging the idea of a significantly different choice. The future claim of taking the “less traveled” road is presented as a retrospective justification rather than an objective fact.

The poem explores the nature of choice and memory: how people later assign meaning to past decisions that might have been made arbitrarily. The final “sigh” suggests a mix of satisfaction and reflection on the path not taken. The title of the poem is the subject, highlighting the unchosen path – emphasising human contemplation of missed opportunities.

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