Sunday Poem Day

God Gave me a Gift   

 by David Barton

Of all the blessings in my life

My home, my job, my lovely wife,

There is one gift unique and sweet,

That makes me whole, fulfilled, complete. 

I prayed for children, and they came,

Three boys who bear the Barton name,

But only one is the prin-cess

The girl who came my life to bless.

So thank you Lord for Emma dear,

She is my darling, that is clear.

I love her laugh, her words, her smile, 

Her crazy bligs, her facebook style, 

I love the times she cuddles in

And lays her head beneath my chin.

My little girl she'll always be

Despite the fact she's far from me. 

Please keep her safe, secure, and warm,

Please send her love, and grace, and charm.

And let her know that where ere she be,

That two men love her- you and me. 

----

And this is why I have the best dad in the world. 

Happy Father's Day, Dadio! 

I love you to Pluto and back. 

Love always,

Ems

Sunday Poem Day.

being to timelessness as it’s to time,
love did no more begin than love will end;
where nothing is to breathe to stroll to swim
love is the air the ocean and the land

(do lovers suffer?all divinities
proudly descending put on deathful flesh:
are lovers glad?only their smallest joy’s
a universe emerging from a wish)

love is the voice under all silences,
the hope which has no opposite in fear;
the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:
the truth more first than sun more last than star

—do lovers love?why then to heaven with hell.
Whatever sages say and fools, all’s well

-e.e. cummings
-----
I adore e.e. cummings. I love his style of poetry and the way in which he somehow captures pure human emotion.

I was talking to my friend, Chad a few days ago and he was telling me about how in his Marriage and Family class, he learned that apathy, not hate, is the opposite of love. I think it's very true, and incredibly interesting to think about in the context of this poem where cummings claims that love is the most essential part of life.

Of course, I agree with cummings. Love is such a natural instinct, one of the first that a child learns as he is cared for by his mother. For me, the existence of love in life is as natural as the air I breath, or as cumming says, the air, the ocean and the land. To live without love, in any form, would be a source of torture for me, I just couldn't do it.

Go out and love someone today, won't you?

Love always,
Ems

Sunday Poem Day.

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;	5
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;	10
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings. -Gerard Manley Hopkins

------
I've decided that since I have such an obsession with poetry, I'm going to start posting my favorite poem of the week each Sunday. This week, in Dr. Walker's class, we read Hopkins. As difficult as Hopkins can be to understand, I think that the imagery of his poetry is almost matchless. There is something invigorating about the ending of this poem and the hope that seems to come in the bright wings.

Maybe the reason I like this poem so much is because I feel that this poem, particularly, reaffirms my belief that poetry is a form of Godly creation. Somehow, the amazing poets of the centuries have captured the essence of humanity and God in their poetry. Forever, I will be amazed by their genius.

Love always,
Ems

On reading Arnold.

This weekend, my assigned reading for Dr. Walker's class was Matthew Arnold.
Before we get to the serious part, let me just say that I love his work but think it the greatest misfortune that he has such an unpoetical name.

Anyway.

While reading, I began connecting to Arnold in a way that I thought I only connected to Keats in.
His poetry spoke directly to my soul and his view of love and life were so... correct.
In his essay on literary criticism, he concludes that,

'to have the sense of creative activity is the great happiness and the great proof of being alive.'

How else can I express the truth of that statement?
I read that line, stopped, thought for a second, and vowed to commit it to memory.
Pure beauty.

His poetry... I cannot even describe how it speaks to me but, it does.
I loved his poem, "The  Buried Life"
Especially in the way he described the vulnerability needed for love:

Give me thy hand, and hush awhile,
And turn those limpid eyes on mine,
And let me read there, love! thy inmost soul. 

Alas, is even love too weak
To unlock the heart, and let it speak?

Oftentimes, I feel that love is so hard for people because they are unwilling to just open up.
People don't want to appear weak and vulnerable, they don't want to show their emotions,
but in order for love to become a part of your life, your vulnerability is a necessity.

Let me read, love! thy inmost soul

I just love that line. Let me know every part of your soul. Let me soak it all in and love it all without judgement. Let me hear the pains and sorrows, the joys and cherished moments.
But if my love is not enough to unlock your heart, what ever will?

I've found my new thought--and-world-view-soul-mate.
Thank you, Matthew Arnold, for articulating the world so perfectly.

Love always,
Ems

Poetry

New Every Morning Every day is a fresh beginning, Listen my soul to the glad refrain. And, spite of old sorrows And older sinning, Troubles forecasted And possible pain, Take heart with the day and begin again.  -Susan Coolidge ------ Over the break I bought a fabulous book: Poem a Day by Karen McCosker & Nicholas Albery. As I've  read a poem each night, I've begun to feel so inspired, so uplifted, and so connected to the world. I've always loved poetry-my dad instilled in me a great love for it-  but as I've grown, I seem to love it more and more.  Poetry reminds me that I am not alone in this sojourn of life. Poetry expresses the thoughts are feelings that so often seem  trapped inside my brain.  Poetry is a companion to life that  I feel should never be neglected.  I especially love this poem by Susan Coolidge.  It's so incredibly simple, yet it hits the nail right on the head.  Every day is a new beginning, a new future  and we should face it with a full heart.  This will be the first poem I memorize in 2013.  Love always,  Ems

Ode to Technology.

Oh, technology, how I adore you.
I love the way in which you connect me to my man.
I love that I can take you most everywhere;
if only I could make you water-proof I would love you even more.

Oh, technology, thank you for being so amazing
and for reminding me that the world has become quite small
and keeping me connected to my friends across the world
even if you loose connection occasionally.

Oh, technology, my life would be sad without you.
How else would I remember the perfect laugh,
the hair twisting, and the teasing?
You are a fabulous thing, technology.

-----

Since Garrett is across the country,
I've become really grateful for time spent on Facetime-
especially when his mom or sister join in.
I know I've said it before, but I really love technology.
There are so many amazing ways to be connected to those who mean the most to us
and for me, being connected to those I love is what's most important during the holidays.

Oh, am I excited to get back to Utah and Mr. G.F. Wilkes.

Love always,
Ems

New Favorite.

First Love

By John Clare

I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.


And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start --
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.


Are flowers the winter's choice?
Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more 

-------

I found this poem last night.

Yes, this is what I do at one a.m.

I must thank my friend, Garrison Keillor, 

his book, Good Poems is my very favorite. 

Love always,

Ems

photo via

A Favorite Poem Rediscovered.

I was reading through my favorite poetry book today and kept flipping back to all the dog-eared pages and I found this poem. I love it. 


All That Time 
By Mary Swenson


I saw two trees embracing.

One leaned on the other
as if to throw her down.
But she was the upright one.
Since their twin youth, maybe she
had been pulling him toward her
all that time,

and finally almost uprooted him.
He was the thin, dry, insecure one,
the most wind-warped, you could see.
And where their tops tangled
it looked like he was crying
on her shoulder.
On the other hand, maybe he

had been trying to weaken her,
break her, or at least
make her bend
over backwards for him
just a little bit.
And all that time
she was standing up to him

the best she could.
She was the most stubborn,
the straightest one, that's a fact.
But he had been willing
to change himself--
even if it was for the worse--
all that time.

At the top they looked like one
tree, where they were embracing.
It was plain they'd be
always together.

Too late now to part.
When the wind blew, you could hear
them rubbing on each other.

***

I promise I will post about my life sometime this week. 

Love always,

Ems

Growing Up.

Our good friend, Blake Savage was called to serve in the Chili, Concepcion mission today.

Slowly summer is drifting by and adulthood is commencing.
The moment I've anticipated is looking more and more uncertain
as I realize all that it entitles.

Saying goodbye to home as a place that I reside in
and saying hello to it as a place I visit.

Seeing boys off who have been so wonderful to me,
and remembering the hours spent talking late at night,
texting an unfinished story back and forth, and asking if they know what love is.

Perhaps, for myself, discovering that, "to die for love? what could be more glorious?"
is a real concept that still exists today
and maybe finding a boy who feels the same.

I suspect that life will be frustrating,
but magnificent and full of happiness
and the same old contradiction it's always been.

I'm expecting to see changes in myself,
and in others,
that I thought would never come.

And I know,
that no matter how hard I try,
things will never be the same.

And that's all right by me,
for life is a glorious story,
that I can't wait to have told.

Love always,
Ems

Sunday Thought: Father.

Father creates the vision of many things:
Some envision anger,
Some envision emptiness,
but I envision love.
The blessings of a father
Who's always there for me,
Who lifts me up when I can't stand,
And prays, each night, for heaven's light
To guide me on my way
is something I will never
find the words that do convey
my full amount of gratitude
for all that I am blessed.

-----------

Today is my father's birthday. He truly is the greatest man that I know and I could not be luckier to be so close to him. My dad has taught me a lot of things: to shoot a gun, ride a bike, love good literature, enjoy poetry, and rappel down a cliff- but most importantly he's shown me how to be a good person. How to love other people, and always look for the good. How to forgive those who have offended, and seek out those who are lonely. I've never seen my dad upset, and his patience with us is astounding because we're far from perfect... but I know that no matter what happens, I will be able to turn around and run to my dad who's waiting for me with open arms.

I love you, dad.

Love always,
Ems

Life is Good.

Ordinary Life

-Barbara Crooker

This was a day when nothing happened,
the children went off to school
without a murmur, remembering
their books, lunches, gloves.
All morning, the baby and I built block stacks
in the squares of light on the floor.
And lunch blended into naptime,
I cleaned out kitchen cupboards,
one of those jobs that never gets done,
then sat in a circle of sunlight
and drank ginger tea,
watched the birds at the feeder
jostle over lunch's little scraps.
A pheasant strutted from the hedgerow,
preened and flashed his jeweled head.
Now a chicken roasts in the pan,
and the children return,
the murmur of their stories dappling the air.
I peel carrots and potatoes without paring my thumb.
We listen together for your wheels on the drive.
Grace before bread.
And at the table, actual conversation,
no bickering or pokes.
And then, the drift into homework.
The baby goes to his cars, drives them
along the sofa's ridges and hills.
Leaning by the counter, we steal a long slow kiss,
tasting of coffee and cream.
The chicken's diminished to skin & skeleton,
the moon to a comma, a sliver of white,
but this has been a day of grace
in the dead of winter,
the hard cold knuckle of the year,
a day that unwrapped itself
like an unexpected gift,
and the stars turn on,
order themselves
into the winter night.

---

I hope that someday I can write about how beautiful my ordinary life was in such breathtaking words. 

Because really, 

ordinary life is wonderful.

You just have to look at it that way.

Life is good.

Love always,

Ems

A Dress Haiku

Pure happiness: The dress
Unique jem, vintage beauty
And here it is: mine.

Yes, I just wrote a crappy haiku about finding my prom dress because let me tell you,
I have never had a more perfect dress.
I want prom to be next weekend.
My best friend, Zack Jarvis, will be the perfect date and I'll be clad in the dress of my dreams- literally.

Totally Cheesy?

Yes.

But that's how my happiness comes out.

Love Always,
Ems

To a Friend, from a Friend.

Two simple words,
that's all I needed.
The proof, that you,
like I, were struggling.

"I'm struggling." Why,
So am I, but do you understand
the strength your words lent?

I knew I could do right
because you showed me I could.
I had your faith, and we both knew,
that I knew what  had to be done.

And so, I thank you with sincere
gratitude of everything I am.
Because, I, like you,
am struggling too.

----

My best friend is one of the greatest blessings I have.

Love Always,
Ems

My Poem.

I love this poem so very much. And I admire all poets. I am working on my poetry skills... it's not going so well. So, I instead am going to share this with you. Being a lover of love, it is amazingly romantic and wonderful to me; I do hope you love it as much as I.

Invitation to Love 
BY PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR

Come when the nights are bright with stars

Or come when the moon is mellow;

Come when the sun his golden bars

Drops on the hay-field yellow.

Come in the twilight soft and gray,

Come in the night or come in the day,

Come, O love, whene’er you may,

And you are welcome, welcome.

You are sweet, O Love, dear Love,

You are soft as the nesting dove.

Come to my heart and bring it to rest

As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.

Come when my heart is full of grief

Or when my heart is merry;

Come with the falling of the leaf

Or with the redd’ning cherry.

Come when the year’s first blossom blows,

Come when the summer gleams and glows,

Come with the winter’s drifting snows,

And you are welcome, welcome.

         ----------

What is your favorite poem?

Love Always,

Ems