FC: Poetry Book Reflections of Nature by Rachel Brannon
1: Table of Contents Page 2 : Maya Angelou Biography Paragraph Page 3 : I know why the Cage Bird Sings Page 4 : Mountains [Imitation Poem] Page 5 : William Wordsworth biography paragraph page 6 : Poetry [Imitation Poem] Page 7 : Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been Page 8 : William Wordsworth Biography Page 9 : Among all lovely things my love had been Page 10 : Winded love Page 11 : Emily Dickinson Biography Page 12 : Death [Imitation poem] Page 13 : "Nature" is what we see
2: Maya Angelou was born on April 4, 1928 in St. Louis, MO. When she was young, she suffered a tremendous trauma: She was raped at the age of 8 by her moms boyfriend. Many of her writings are focused on things that happened to her in her life. In addition to being an author/poet, she also was a singer, dancer, author actress, night club dancer, madame, cook and much more. Angelou is best known for her poetry | Maya Angelou
3: The free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still and is tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom | I Know Why The Cage Bird Sings | The free bird thinks of another breeze an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.
4: Mountains They are so pretty They are so tall walk up to the peak but please don't fall They could be covered white with snow they could be hotter than you know go up and watch the river flow Mountains are so pretty you know
5: Robert Frost was born March 26, 1874. and died January 29, 1963. The themes of his poetry mainly focus on depictions of everyday life of rural Americans. His poetry was mainly inspired by settings from New England where he lived in the early twentieth century. One highlight of his career was He won 4 prizes for his poems in 1924 for NH: A Poem With Notes and Grace Notes, 1931 for Collected Poems, 1937 for A Further Range-1943 for A Witness Tree | Robert Frost
6: Poetry Poems can be ways to express your emotions They can be bad emotions or good emotions Some can even hide their feelings some make them hard to find exactly what your emotions are Poems can mean more than one thing Some means stand out Some you have to search to find
7: Birches When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust-- Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. But I was going to say when Truth broke in With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm (Now am I free to be poetical?) I should prefer to have some boy bend them As he went out and in to fetch the cows-- Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, Whose only play was what he found himself, Summer or winter, and could play alone. One by one he subdued his father's trees By riding them down over and over again Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon And so not carrying the tree away Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise To the top branches, climbing carefully With the same pains you use to fill a cup Up to the brim, and even above the brim. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. So was I once myself a swinger of birches. | And so I dream of going back to be. It's when I'm weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig's having lashed across it open. I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate willfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better. I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
8: William Wordsworth was born April 17, 1770 and died April 23, 1850. Nature was the main theme of his poetry. His work was influenced by his childhood home in Lake District. Wordsworth was considered to be a romantic poet. As a poet, Wordsworth's philosophy about all about nature and the common man. | William Wordsworth
9: Among all lovely things my love had been AMONG all lovely things my Love had been; Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew About her home; but she had never seen A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew. While riding near her home one stormy night A single glow-worm did I chance to espy; I gave a fervent welcome to the sight, And from my horse I leapt; great joy had I. Upon a leaf the glow-worm did I lay, To bear it with me through the stormy night: And, as before, it shone without dismay; Albeit putting forth a fainter light. When to the dwelling of my Love I came, I went into the orchard quietly; And left the glow-worm, blessing it by name, Laid safely by itself, beneath a tree. The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear; At night the glow-worm shone beneath the tree; I led my Lucy to the spot, 'Look here,' Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me!
10: Winded Love Like the wind not being able to see nor being able to hear but being able to feel is how strong your love is like the sun rises every morning un-doubtfully my love will be here continuously
11: Emily Dickinson grew up in Amherst, Massachusetts. She was born 1830 and died 1886. Her poetry is unique because of its written in 220.127.116.11 meter, and just the way she uses words is very unique, and her rhyme technique known as slant rhythm. Emily's life was a little bit strange, because she staid at home her whole life except her freshman year of college. Some of her favorite authors were Longfellow, Holmes and Lowell. Emily wrote over 800 poems, but only a few were published during her lifetime. | Emily Dickinson
12: Death Something we fear Something we don't wanna talk about- But that happens to everyone We cant stop it We have to accept it No one said it was easy- But its apart of life That is gonna happen
13: "Nature" is what we see by Emily Dickinson "Nature" is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse— the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven— Nature is what we hear— The Bobolink—the Sea— Thunder—the Cricket— Nay—Nature is Harmony— Nature is what we know— Yet have no art to say— So impotent Our Wisdom is To her Simplicity.