Tags » Edwin Arlington Robinson

“. . . if my bubbles be too small for you, Blow bigger then your own. . . “

Yesterday’s newscasts included notice that the novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez had died. He was 87.

He was but 18 years older than I. That’s on my mind because I’ve been talking to advisers about how to use the pittance I have put away for retirement, and I hope that, if I live to be 87, my money doesn’t end before I do. 1,081 more words

Aging

Poet Appreciation #2: Edwin Arlington Robinson

I vaguely recall reading one or two of Edwin Arlington Robinson’s poetry as I dug through my AP selections. Needless to say, he is not a poet that I am familiar with; however, this gem dropped in my box as a my daily poem offering and it immediately reverberated within me: don’t we all wonder about that abandoned house? 278 more words

Luke Havergal

Go to the western gate, Luke Havergal,

There where the vines cling crimson on the wall,

And in the twilight wait for what will come. 234 more words

Charles Carville's Eyes By Edwin Arlington Robinson

A melancholy face Charles Carville had,
But not so melancholy as it seemed,
When once you knew him, for his mouth redeemed
His insufficient eyes, forever sad: 89 more words

People

Ballad of Dead Friends By Edwin Arlington Robinson

As we the withered ferns
By the roadway lying,
Time, the jester, spurns
All our prayers and prying –
All our tears and sighing,
Sorrow, change, and woe – 140 more words

People