I would like to recite for you one of my favorite poems. When I first heard this it just spoke right to my heart. I feel like it has become a part of me since my early childhood years. I t is so elegantly written. A wordsmith wrote this without doubt. Over the years I have gone back to it several times and it can always bring meaning to the place I am in life. It may seem abstract to some but if you have ever had the feeling of something speaking directly to your should you will know just what I am taking about.
In London Towne a bairn wurst boure
nigh agin he’d head and wee
ah sure as hard hath finial hall
“depart forthwith” cried he.
The Parson skipped most flinchfully
avast an altered park
Until a lassie spied his three
long years before the dark.
“For shame!” said she, and widdled
devoid of cretinous mien
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his spiel in to the glen.
O how joyous under sunlight
the coelacanth and sundry
quarterdeck and poop alike
lost in the sea’s dark laundry.
McGee stood proudly, nevertheless
baring his buttressed blazer
into the murky briny depths
he was a steady gazer.
The Parson shouted “Verily!
My niece and norn, my Nancy!”
Defiant, thunderstruck and chuck
his brim and gait due fancy.
O’er running boards and capital
the mighty brink was dun
met certain of the inquisitors
that mitigated fun.
“Efraim McGee,” she primly spat
while nibbling on a chocolate
“Ye fed the raven to the cat,
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“Aye,” he nodded sagely
his eyes left all the while
“For e’en and o’er and after all
’twas jest ta see ye smile.”
The Parson’s shout was deafening
(if any had been near —
like the storied bruin of old
doing business by the mere)
“Nay!” he thundered. “Nay again!”
But to ears as if sewn shut
for as the buck in autumnal glee
oft gets stuck in a rut.
Nancy she’s a seamstress now
at a factory in Killarney
Still with a sparkle in her one good eye
but not a little barny.
The Parson passed on a winter’s night
a soundless sparkling cold one
All one could see was black and white
crystalline if you could hold one.
And McGee he’s still a ranger’s weld
a-foraging in haste:
“Be ye a man with time in hand
or be ye just a waste.”
What a profound statement. Words that have true meaning are hard to come by. Many people will wander through life without ever experiencing what they can do for an open and active mind. The can drive you. They can heal you. They can be what this life is all about.