Friday, October 30, 2009

Jennie at Biblio Phile is hosting Poetry Friday today. http://www.jenrothschild.com/. Head on over and post a link. This week I am posting a traditional English ballad, Scarborough Fair, upon which the young adult novel, Impossible, the National Book Award Finalist by Nancy Werlin is based.

Be sure and visit the book's website for interesting history about the ballad and more information about the book.

http://us.penguingroup.com/static/packages/us/yreaders/impossible/history.html

and here's another website with some fun facts:

http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=1175


Scarborough Fair

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
For once she was a true love of mine.

Have her make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without a seam or fine needle work,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have her wash it in yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Where ne'er a drop of water e'er fell.
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have her find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the sea and over the sand,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

If she tells me she can't, I'll reply
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Let me know that at least she will try
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Though not more than any heart asks
And I must know she's a true love of mine.

Dear, when thou has finished thy task,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Come to me, my hand for to ask,
For thou then art a true love of mine.

From
Golden Encyclopedia of Folk Music
Hal Leonard Publishing Corp. Milwaukee, WI

Saturday, October 24, 2009




The poetry roundup is over at Big A, little a. I'm in today with a poem shared earlier this week by a friend and colleague who recently celebrated her wedding anniversary, who had this poem read at her wedding. It is posted here in her honor, and in honor of my favorite newlyweds who are honeymooning in Maine, after one of the all-time best weddings ever; and in thanksgiving for my own sweet life partner!

To My Dear and Loving Husband

by Anne Bradstreet


If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay;
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.


Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672) is generally considered the first American poet. Born around 1612 near Northampton, England, she married Simon

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Thursday, October 22, 2009

Sunday, October 18, 2009