BUTTERCUP MEADOW

I've been posting short (sometimes silly) 'poems of the day' over on Twitter. I don't know; just thought it would be fun to do. Anyway, today's was a three-tweeter, which kind of means it's a bit more of a poemy poem than usual, if you know what I mean.

You know, I think you can get a bit too technical about poetry. I saw an article analysing The Wild Swans at Coole by W.B. Yeats, and it went into astonishing detail! The poet had used 'regular iambic pulsation' and 'tetrameters ending in an amphibranch' apparently, which all contribute to the auditory effect of the poetry. Well good. I just like the poem; I've got no idea how it's wired up between its syllables.

I'm not even sure W.B. Yeats knew what he was doing to that level, did he? Were all the great artists obsessively nerdy about precisely what to call their technique and how to use it? Like many a GCSE English student, I can't believe it was anything more than just a skill crafted from a feeling! You're supposed to feel something, to shape some emotion from a lump of clay or a toolbox of words!

Well anyway. Here's a link to The Wild Swans at Coole, which I think is brilliant. And below, far less brilliant, is me dreaming of having my own meadow. You can unwire it if you like. It came out of my heart, which I think, should be exactly the point.

Buttercup Meadow

If I had a buttercup meadow

I’d wait for the springtime to come

Then lie in the grass

As the great billows pass

Through the sky with the fresh yellow sun

I’d dream by the delicate river

And sing in the tickling breeze

That music of old

In green and in gold

That softens the song of the trees

If I had a buttercup meadow

I’d leave all the world to its care

So sweet would it seem

To rest in a dream

For the buttercups wait for me there