Sister Maude, by Christina Rosetti

SISTER MAUDE – CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

Christina Rossetti begins her poem “Sister Maude” with two similar questions, asking who told her parents about her 'shame'. We do not know at this point what the narrator's shame is, but it gradually becomes clear that she was having an affair with a handsome man. In Victorian times when Rossetti was writing, this would certainly have been considered shameful. The narrator answers the questions in the first quatrain, naming her sister Maude as the person who told her parents what was happening. The quatrain ends with the narrator's comment that Maude was spying on her sister; the word 'lurked' conveys the feeling of furtiveness and slyness. The fact that the narrator says 'who but Maude' when answering the questions shows that no-one else would have betrayed the narrator in this way, that Maude was a despicable sister.

The second quatrain focuses on the narrator's lover. The word 'cold' is emphasised by its position as the initial word, and also by its repetition in the simile 'as cold as stone' in the first line. The phrase 'Cold he lies' tells us that he is now dead. In the second line of this quatrain, Rossetti uses alliteration in 'clotted curls', a phrase that also echoes the initial sound of 'cold'. The description suggests that his once beautiful hair is now possibly congealed with blood. Again in this quatrain's third line we find alliteration with the hard 'c' sound in the phrase 'comeliest corpse'. Even in death, the man is very handsome, so handsome that the final line of the quatrain tells us that he could be the lover of a queen.

In the third quatrain the narrator speaks directly to her sister, wishing that Maude had spared the soul of the man as well as the two sisters. We now understand that it was Maude who murdered the man. She was obviously jealous, and it appears that the narrator was more attractive than Maude. The narrator conveys this idea in saying that even if she had never been born, the man would not have considered having an affair with Maude.

The narrator turns to the fate of her family in the fourth quatrain. She knows that her father is at peace in heaven, or 'Paradise', whereas her mother waits at its gate. This may mean that her mother has just recently died. The narrator knows, however, that Sister Maude will never go to heaven because she has committed murder: she will 'get no sleep'. The phrase 'Either early or late' that concludes the quatrain likely means that Maude is still alive, but her conscience will not allow her any peace or sleep.

The final stanza of 'Sister Maude' stands out as it has six lines compared to the four lines of the previous stanzas. The narrator once again refers to her parents: she believes that her father in heaven perhaps wears 'a golden crown', conveying the idea that he must have lived an admirable life. Again we have the impression that her mother may be not long dead, as she 'may win' a crown in heaven. The narrator then focuses on herself and her lover. She believes that even though they were having an affair, having been cruelly murdered they may be allowed to go to heaven if they 'knocked at Heaven-gate'. In the final two lines of the poem, the narrator once again addresses Sister Maude directly, repeating her name in the penultimate line. She ends the poem by telling Maude in no uncertain terms that she will have to live, or 'Bide', 'with death and sin'. The word 'you' is emphasised with italics, drawing attention to the contrast between the fate of Maude and the rest of the family.

The poem's structure is regular in that all but the final stanza are quatrains; the last stanza has six lines, allowing Rossetti to comment on the fate of her parents, her lover, herself and finally her sister. The rhyme scheme is ABCB for the quatrains, and ABCBDB for the final stanza. The fact that the first and third lines have no rhymes gives Rossetti more freedom in her choice of vocabulary.

The notes in 'Christina Rossetti – The Complete Poems' (Penguin Classics) suggest that Rossetti was influenced in composing “Sister Maude” by Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem “The Sister's Shame”. Both follow the same theme, but Tennyson's version is written from the point of view of the sister who killed the man. A further suggestion is that both Rossetti and Tennyson were influenced by Walter Scott's “Minstrelsy”.

Death is a recurring theme in her poetry, and Christina Rossetti must also have been affected by her voluntary work at Highgate Penitentiary, a home for 'fallen' women. Her contact here with criminals of various kinds that may well have lead her to compose “Sister Maude”. She explores a relationship between two sisters that is destroyed because of Maude's jealousy of her sister's looks and the attentions of her handsome lover. After initially spying on her sister, Maude goes to the extreme lengths of murder to vent her spite. Rossetti, a deeply religious woman, concentrates on the fact that peace in heaven awaits those, such as her parents, who lead an honourable life. Her conclusion is that Maude will be haunted by her crime and will never find peace of mind.

Here is the full text of “Sister Maude”

Who told my mother of my shame,

Who told my father of my dear?

Oh who but Maude, my sister Maude,

Who lurked to spy and peer.

Cold he lies, as cold as stone,

With his clotted curls about his face:

The comeliest corpse in all the world

And worthy of a queen's embrace.

You might have spared his soul, sister,

Have spared my soul, your own soul too:

Though I had not been born at all,

He'd never have looked at you.

My father may sleep in Paradise,

My mother at Heaven-gate;

But sister Maude shall get no sleep

Either early or late.

My father may wear a golden gown,

My mother a crown may win;

If my dear and I knocked at Heaven-gate

Perhaps they'd let us in:

But sister Maude, oh sister Maude,

Bide you with death and sin.

Reference

Christina Rossetti – The Complete Poems, Penguin Classics, 2005 (with introduction by Betty Flowers).

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The Wild Swans at Coole, by W.B. Yeats

THE WILD SWANS AT COOLE

W B Yeats

Yeats' poem “The Wild Swans at Coole” is set in Coole Park in County Galway, Ireland, where Yeats loved to spend time. It is autumn, and the trees look beautiful, but autumn of course is a season of decay. The time of day is 'twilight', so the light is fading and the day is drawing to a close. There is an air of tranquillity at first as the lake reflects 'a still sky'. The first stanza ends, however, with the announcement that there are fifty-nine swans on the water. Yeats states this number as 'nine and fifty', and the fact that the nine comes first emphasises that this is an odd number. One of the swans is alone, without a mate.

Yeats opens the second stanza by stating that it is nineteen years since he first counted the swans at Coole, but we don't know how old he was at the time. He can remember that while he was counting he saw the swans take flight all at once and then split up, 'wheeling in great broken rings'. The noise of their wings must have been almost deafening; Yeats describes it as 'clamourous'. It was an experience that obviously remained with him, striking as it was.

Yeats had great admiration for the swans, describing them in the opening line of the third stanza as 'brilliant creatures'. In the following line, however, he turns to his own feelings: 'my heart is sore'. He is remembering a sight he first saw when he was much younger, and this makes him acutely aware that he is ageing. He refers again to the noise of the swans' wings, this time using alliteration in the phrase 'bell-beat'. Yeats closes the third stanza with the statement that he 'Trod with a lighter tread' when he first heard the sound, implying that he was younger and more carefree or joyful then.

Yeats opens the fourth stanza by describing the swans as 'Unwearied', contrasting the fact that they do not tire with the reference to his own ageing. The swans are 'lover by lover', flying in pairs. Yeats uses alliteration to describe the movement of the swans, this time with the hard 'c' sound in 'cold / Companionable streams or climb the air'. 'Their hearts have not grown old' forms another strong contrast with the line 'And now my heart is sore' of the previous stanza. A softer alliteration features in the phrase 'wander where they will', conveying a sense of the swans' freedom. Their vivacity and energy are alluded to as Yeats says that they still seek 'passion and conquest'. The implication once again is that the poet has aged and is no longer young enough for a new love affair. (In actual fact Yeats married after this poem was composed.)

The two opening lines of the final stanza echo the mood and setting of the first stanza, describing the swans as 'Mysterious, beautiful' on the calm water of the lake. In the last four lines of “The Wild Swans at Coole”, Yeats faces the fact that the swans will not be there forever. They will build nests in another place for the winter, and they will give pleasure to other people who will see them beside a 'lake's edge or pool'. Yeats will 'awake some day' to find that they have gone. The poem ends with this air of sadness, which could be symbolic of the transitory nature of a love affair.

The poem is set in five stanzas of six lines each; the lines are of varying length, but long and short tend to alternate. The rhyme scheme is ABCBDD, although 'stones' and 'swans' in the fifth and sixth lines of the first stanza are really just a half rhyme. Yeats uses a combination of end-stopped lines and enjambment within each stanza; the enjambment allows one line to flow into the next and extend the image. In the second stanza this device is used over the last three lines where Yeats describes the powerful effect that the sight and sound of the swans flying up had on him.

“The Wild Swans at Coole” is an evocative poem in which Yeats uses a setting and the memory of an experience, now being re-lived, to express his awareness of the ageing process. The season of autumn and the time of twilight symbolise this process, as nature dies away and light fades. The beauty and power of the swans create a contrast that Yeats experiences through sight and sound. They have not aged or lost their 'passion' for life and love. Yeats is aware, however, that youth slips away and his heart becomes heavy, knowing that ageing is inevitable and that change has to be confronted.

Here is the full text of “The Wild Swans at Coole”

The trees are in their autumn beauty,

The woodland paths are dry,

Under the October twilight the water

Mirrors a still sky;

Upon the brimming water among the stones

Are nine and fifty swans.

The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me

Since I first made my count;

I saw, before I had well finished,

All suddenly mount

And scatter wheeling in great broken rings

Upon their clamourous wings.

I have looked upon these brilliant creatures,

And now my heart is sore.

All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,

The first time on this shore,

The bell-beat of their wings above my head,

Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,

They paddle in the cold,

Companionable streams or climb the air;

Their hearts have not grown old;

Passion or conquest, wander where they will,

Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water

Mysterious, beautiful;

Among what rushes will they build,

By what lake's edge or pool

Delight men's eyes, when I awake some day

To find they have flown away?

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Spellbound, by Emily Bronte

SPELLBOUND

by Emily Bronte

The setting of Emily Bronte's poem “Spellbound” is the Yorkshire Moors in England, the same setting as for her novel “Wuthering Heights.” The speaker is there on a cold winter's night, and the atmosphere is very bleak. Emily Bronte wrote the poem in 1837, at the age of nineteen. She and her sisters, Charlotte and Ann, had imagined a world that they called Gondal. In Gondal, the heroes and heroines they wrote about found themselves in romantic and sometimes tragic circumstances. Juliet Barker and Fannie Ratchford, both authorities on the poems of Emily Bronte, believe that “Spellbound” revolves around a mother who leaves her child out on the moors to die of exposure. Watching her child die is torture for her, but the woman is under a spell and finds herself unable to walk away. There is, however, no actual reference to a child in the poem.

The opening line of the poem “Spellbound” tells us that darkness is descending and surrounding the speaker. In the following line, Bronte uses alliteration in the phrase “wild winds” to make the description more vivid; not only are the winds strong, but they are also cold. The word “But” at the beginning of the third line conveys the sense that nobody would want to stay out on a cold, dark night. The speaker, however, is under “a tyrant spell,” the adjective implying that the spell is a particularly harsh, cruel one. Bronte connects the third line to the fourth with enjambment, thus linking the idea that because of the spell, the speaker is unable to leave the place where she is. The repetition of “cannot” emphasises the fact that it is impossible for her to go away.

The second stanza continues the description of the setting and intensifies the extreme weather conditions. The trees are “giant,” which stresses their size but also perhaps personifies them and creates a sense of fear. Bronte uses alliteration once again in the phrase “bending / their bare boughs.” Snow is laying heavily on the boughs of the trees, so the wintery conditions are indeed severe. In line seven the speaker says that a storm is brewing, but the second stanza closes in a similar way to the first: “And yet I cannot go.”

In the third and final stanza, Bronte uses repetition to underline the difficult conditions. First of all there are “Clouds beyond clouds” in the sky, then “Wastes beyond wastes below.” Wastes are barren land, creating the impression of a lonely, uninhabited place where a woman would not wish to be alone on a stormy winter's night. Despite this, the speaker says in line 11 that nothing “drear,” which means dismal or depressing, will make her move from the spot. In the final line of the poem she states not only that she cannot go, as she says at the end of the first two stanzas, but that she “will not” go. The spell seems to have taken such a hold upon her that she would not even make any attempt to leave.

The rhyme scheme of the poem is ABAB CBCB ABAB, which forms a symmetrical pattern. The first, third, ninth and eleventh lines all in fact end with the word “me” so they are identical rather than rhyming words. This serves to accentuate the predicament of the woman; she is surrounded by darkness and severe weather, but the force of the spell makes her unable to move. The fact that the second stanza, which is also the middle one, has the rhyming words “bending” and descending” sets it apart from the other two stanzas. The first and last stanzas are similar in the length of lines, as in both of them the first and third lines are slightly longer than the second and fourth. In the second stanza, line six appears to be the longest one in the poem, although it is not the one with the most syllables. The fact that the first and third stanzas look very similar, however, does add to the feeling of symmetry that is established by the rhyme scheme.

“Spellbound” is a brief poem but within the three stanzas Emily Bronte creates a powerful atmosphere through the use of vivid description, repetition of words and phrases and rhyming patterns. Initially there is a sense of the desperation of the woman who is speaking, but by the end of the poem, when “will not” is added to her statement “cannot go,” the idea that she is under a “tyrant spell” becomes all too convincing.

Here is the full text of the poem:

The night is darkening round me,

The wild winds coldly blow;

But a tyrant spell has bound me

And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending

Their bare boughs weighed with snow.

And the storm is fast descending,

And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,

Wastes beyond wastes below;

But nothing drear can move me;

I will not, cannot go.

Originally published on helium.com

The Right Word, by Imtiaz Dharker

THE RIGHT WORD

by Imtiaz Dharker

Imtiaz Dharker's poem “The Right Word” focuses on a figure that is in the shadows outside the narrator's house. It is noticeable that the word “outside” appears in the first seven of the poem's nine stanzas, and the word “shadows” or “shadow” in the first six. Because the figure is in the shadows, it is difficult to make out who or what he is, and so the narrator is searching for the right word to identify him.

The first stanza describes the figure as “lurking” in the shadows and states that he is a terrorist; the image is therefore a very threatening one. In the opening line of the second stanza, Dharker wonders if that description was an incorrect one. This time the figure is said to be “taking shelter,” making him seem more vulnerable, and Dharker identifies him with alliteration as “a freedom fighter.” The connotations are much more positive than those connected with a terrorist. In the third stanza, however, the narrator still feels that the figure has not been correctly identified. He is now described as merely “waiting” in the shadows and is seen as “a hostile militant.” This identity obviously labels him as an enemy.

Dharker uses enjambment to link the first two lines of the fourth stanza to extend a question about the definition of words. She uses the alliterative metaphor “waving, wavering flags”, asking if words are no more than that. Wavering conveys the idea of hesitating, changing an opinion, and waving creates an image of constant movement or fluctuating ideas. The words we use to describe people or things can change from one moment to the next. In this stanza, the figure is “watchful,” therefore alert, in the shadows; this time the narrator identifies him as a “guerrilla warrior,” in other words an aggressive fighter.

The fifth stanza opens with the words “God help me,” signifying the fact that Dharker is in a state of shock, perhaps. Now the figure is “defying every shadow,” and so his identity becomes more apparent. He is “a martyr,” in other words a person who dies for the sake of his faith. The stanza closes with the line “I saw his face,” so there is now no doubt as to the figure's identity. Dharker opens the sixth stanza with the comment that words can no longer help, as the realisation of who the figure is dawns on her. Now the figure is “just outside” but is “lost” in the shadows. This time, rather than a fighter or a warrior, he is described as a “child” who resembles the narrator's own.

In the opening line of the seventh stanza, the poet says “One word for you,” seeming to address the reader directly. The figure is still outside; his hand is “too steady” and his eyes “too hard.” These descriptions convey a sense of purpose and confidence. The “word” for the reader is the comment of the stanza's last line, which states that the figure is “a boy who looks like your son, too.” The implication is that a terrorist, a fighter or a warrior is someone's son. He belongs to a family, and there are people who love him; he is not necessarily a person to be feared or shunned.

Having identified the figure, Dharker begins the eighth stanza with the line “I open the door,” marking a turning point in the poem. She invites the figure to come into the house and eat with the family. This underlines the idea that the figure, even if he is a fighter, is part of the family and not a threat. In the opening line of the ninth and final stanza, the figure is referred to as a “child”. He enters the house and “carefully” takes his shoes off. This action shows respect for the household as well as politeness, especially since the action was performed with care rather than brusqueness.

Dharker's poem “The Right Word” makes us question the labels that we give to people and the attitudes that we have towards terrorists and militants. The poem's stanzas are of uneven length as the narrator reacts in different ways to the sight of the figure and thoughts go through her mind. Rhyme is not used, but the phrase “Outside the door” recurs with the word “the” replaced by either that, your or my. The situation could therefore happen outside anyone's door. Repetition of the phrase “in the shadows” allows for the figure's exact identity to remain a mystery until the narrator sees his face in the fifth stanza. The shift in attitude once the figure is identified as a child or a son is emphasised by the repetition of “come in” in the penultimate stanza and “comes in” in the final stanza.

“The Right Word” is a fascinating look at the way we react towards people's identities. How does a mother feel if her son becomes a terrorist, a freedom fighter, or a martyr? A militant or a warrior still has a family and does not necessarily pose a threat. Such a person is capable of respect and politeness when welcomed into a home. Words are labels that have strong connotations, but we should not allow them to influence our judgement of people without looking at all the alternatives that we can perceive.

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The Falling Leaves, by Margaret Postgate Cole

The Falling Leaves

by Margaret Postgate Cole

Margaret Postgate Cole's poem “The Falling Leaves” depicts a woman's reaction to World War I. While out for a ride, the sight of autumn leaves falling makes her think of soldiers dying on the battlefields of Flanders. The poem is a mere twelve lines long, but it has a poignancy that lingers after reading it.

The leaves remind Cole of soldiers dying because of the way they fall to the ground in the stillness. Cole uses alliteration with a soft “w” sound in the fourth line: “When no wind whirled them whistling to the sky.” Had they been blown around in the air, the effect would have been quite different. The number of leaves and the way they fall without a sound creates an eerie atmosphere. Cole uses a simile in line 6, comparing the leaves to snowflakes, another image from nature. She says that the leaves “fell like snowflakes wiping out the noon.” There were so many of them that they must have blocked out the light.

In line 7 Cole states that she slowed her pace from that moment on, as she began thinking about the soldiers dying in the war. She describes them in the following line as a “gallant multitude,” referring to their bravery as well as to the large number killed. In line 9 she once again uses alliteration with the soft “w” sound: “Which now all withering lay.” The image conveys a sense of decay and waste, contrasting with the courageousness of the soldiers when they were alive.

In line 10 Cole uses wind as a metaphor, taking an image from nature for the third time in the poem. She says that the soldiers have not been killed because of old age or disease (“pestilence”). In the penultimate line of the poem Cole refers to the “beauty” of the soldiers, creating a contrast with the image of their bodies “withering” in line 9. The reference to their “beauty” implies that they were still very young when they died. The poem closes with a simile in which Cole again compares the dead soldiers to snowflakes. Snowflakes melt so quickly, and the soldiers' lives were so short. This time the mention of the “Flemish clay” leaves no doubt that she is referring to the battlefields of Flanders.

The entire poem is just one sentence, and the ideas are thus closely knitted together. The lines alternate between long and short, although there is more of a difference in length in the first half than in the second. Cole used enjambment four times to link one line to the next, enabling her to extend a description or an image. In fact lines 7, 8 and 9 are all connected, without any pauses created by punctuation.

The rhyme scheme of “The Falling Leaves” is an unusual one: ABCAACDEFDGF. There is a pattern of sorts, and “lay” and “clay” might be considered half rhymes of “by,” “sky” and “silently.” The unusual pattern does give the poem a more natural feel, as rigid rhyme schemes can sometimes seem contrived. They can also create a lighter tone, whereas “The Falling Leaves” is a poem with a sombre mood.

In the space of twelve lines, Margaret Postgate Cole paints a touching picture, paying tribute to the soldiers who lost their lives in World War I. The comparison to autumn leaves falling creates an image of vast numbers dying, their lives wasting away just like the leaves withering. The similes of snowflakes emphasise how short the lives of the young soldiers were. It is hard to read “The Falling Leaves” without being moved, remembering the tragic loss of so many men.

Today, as I rode by,

I saw the brown leaves dropping from their tree

In a still afternoon,

When no wind whirled them whistling to the sky,

But thickly, silently,

They fell like snowflakes wiping out the noon;

And wandered slowly thence

For thinking of a gallant multitude

Which now all withering lay,

Slain by no wind of age or pestilence,

But in their beauty strewed

Like snowflakes falling on the Flemish clay.

Originally published on helium.com

Mametz Wood, by Owen Sheers

Mametz Wood

by Owen Sheers

Owen Sheers wrote the poem “Mametz Wood” after visiting the site of a World War I battlefield on the Somme in France. He made the visit on the occasion of the eighty-fifth anniversary of a battle that took place there in 1916. About four thousand soldiers of the 38^th Welsh Division lost their lives during the battle. Walking through the field, Sheers noticed that shells, pieces of barbed wire and fragments of human bones were still to be found coming to the surface after so many years. He also saw a newspaper article with a photograph of a war grave that had recently been discovered near Mametz Wood; he found the photograph very moving. His experiences during that visit to France inspired him to write the poem “Mametz Wood.”

In the opening lines of “Mametz Wood,” Sheers reveals that the site of the battle reverted to farmland and that the farmers found remains of soldiers' bodies long after the war had ended. “The wasted young” shows that most of those who died had barely reached adulthood. Sheers comments in line 3 that the farmers “tended the land back into itself,” trying to rid the fields of associations of war and allow it to be restored to its original state.

Reminders sprang up, however, in the form of fragments of corpses. In the second stanza, Sheers uses metaphors to describe these fragments, starting with a “chit of bone” in line 4; a chit can be a brief note or letter, so the image created is one of a small piece that nevertheless conveys a message. In the same line a shoulder blade is described with the metaphor “a china plate,” as though it is hard but also fragile and perhaps precious. In line 5 a finger is merely a “relic,” as it has no use now. Sheers uses enjambment to link line 5 to line 6 and extend slightly the metaphor in “the blown / and broken bird's egg of a skull.” The image of the shattered bird's egg emphasises the fragility of the skull, and the alliteration with the “b” sound intensifies the description.

The human remains are “all mimicked now in flint,” a phrase where the assonance of the short “i” adds life to the image at the beginning of the third stanza. Sheers echoes the alliteration of the previous stanza in the phrase “breaking blue in white,” describing the colours of the fragments that are pushing through the surface of the earth. The last two lines of the stanza focus on how the soldiers were ordered to walk towards the wood, unaware of the guns that were waiting to fire on them. Sheers describes the machine guns as “nesting” in the wood, once again using an image related to birds, almost as though the guns belonged among the trees.

At the start of the fourth stanza, Sheers returns to the present time, personifying the earth as it “stands sentinel,” creating the impression that it is watching over the field and the remnants of the battle. It is “reaching back into itself for reminders,” an alliterative phrase that personifies the land, conveying the idea that it cannot let go of the memories of the war. Sheers packs imagery into this stanza, using both a simile and alliteration in the last line. He compares the field to a “wound working a foreign body to the surface of the skin,” as though the fragments of bone are alien and need to be pushed up and then removed from the soil.

The last three stanzas of “Mametz Wood” concern the photograph that Sheers saw in a local newspaper of a war grave that had only just been discovered at the time of his visit to France. Twenty soldiers had been buried together, “a broken mosaic of bone linked arm in arm.” It is a poignant image showing how the men were physically connected, dying together, but the “broken mosaic” means that their remains are now fragmented. Sheers closes the fifth stanza with the description of the skeletons that appear to have been stopped in the middle of a “dance-macabre,” a medieval dance of death.

The fifth stanza runs into the sixth, where Sheers mentions the soldiers' boots that have had a longer life than their owners. He goes on to describe the skulls of the soldiers, although not all of them were intact. Those that remained were “tilted back at an angle” with jaws wide open. In the seventh and final stanza Sheers conveys the idea that the soldiers' skeletons appeared to be singing, but that the sound of their voices was not heard until the grave was discovered years later. “Sung” and “tongues” at the end of lines 19 and 21 create a half-rhyme, and this is the only instance of rhyme in the poem apart from “run” and “guns” in lines 8 and 9. These half-rhymes have more impact since there are only two pairs throughout the poem.

His visit to the battlefield and the photograph of the war grave both obviously had a profound effect on Owen Sheers. Although it is not a personal account of war, Sheers has created a moving description of the way in which reminders of the horrors of war are still present and visible many years later. The imagery is very rich, and the persistence of the relics of war is clear. The sight of so many skeletons together in a grave must have stirred up genuine emotion. Sheers' references to dancing and singing create a contrast to the horrific image seen in the photograph, and perhaps accentuate the feeling of wasted lives. The work of poets who actively fought in World War I may be more personal, but “Mametz Wood” highlights the fact that eight-five years later reminders of soldiers' deaths were still very much present.

Originally published on helium.com

Harmonium, by Simon Armitage

HARMONIUM

by Simon Armitage

The Farrand Chapelette is a type of harmonium or small organ. Simon Armitage and his father before him were choir boys at the church of Saint Bartholomew in Marsden, a village in West Yorkshire. On occasions when the congregation at a service was quite small, the organist would play the harmonium instead of the full-size organ.

The harmonium eventually fell out of use, and in the opening lines of his poem “Harmonium” Armitage states that it was “gathering dust / in the shadowy porch.” It would have been thrown in a skip had Armitage not wanted it. In the final line of the first stanza he comments that he could have it “for a song”, an idiom that means very cheaply. There is an obvious play on words here, as the harmonium is of course used to play song tunes.

The second stanza of “Harmonium” is twice as long as the first and describes the musical instrument in detail. The first half of this stanza focuses on the effect sunlight has had in the church. The windows show images of saints and of Jesus Christ rising from the dead; Armitage says that the sun can “beatify” the saints, in other words raise them above the level of ordinary people. He contrasts the fact that the sunlight shining through the stained glass windows has a positive effect whereas it has weathered or “aged” the wooden case of the instrument. Armitage uses the metaphor “fingernails” in describing the way the sun has discoloured the harmonium's keys; the area that the organist would have pressed with his fingers is now yellow. One of the harmonium's notes or keys has “lost its tongue;” the personification to convey the fact that the key is silent brings life to the image.

The last three lines of the second stanza focus on how worn the treadles of the harmonium are. These are like pedals that the organist has to continually push down with his feet as he plays the music. There are actually holes in both of them now. Armitage even describes how the organist used to wear “grey, woollen socks / and leather-soled shoes,” conjuring up a rather dull picture. He uses a half rhyme, with “treadles” at the end of line ten and “pedalled” at the end of line twelve; this is the only instance of rhyme in the stanza.

The third stanza is a shorter one, consisting of five lines. Armitage uses alliteration twice in the opening line, “But its hummed harmonics still struck a chord.” This is a vivid description emphasising the fact that although the harmonium is very old and worn, it means something to the poet. The idiom “to strike a chord” means that something triggers a memory, but of course this is another play on words, since chords can be played on a harmonium. Armitage tells us that the instrument was used for a hundred years and stood “by the choristers' stalls.” He mentions that “father and son” had both sung there; this could refer to himself and his father, although he does not specifically say so. In the closing line of the third stanza, Armitage reverses a simile to describe the singing of the choir boys. He says that “gilded finches” “streamed out” of their throats, using metaphors, and says that the finches were “like high notes,” which is in fact what they were. This imagery is rather complicated but nevertheless conveys the image beautifully.

The fourth and final stanza is the poem's longest one. It concerns Armitage's father, although the poet does not actually say so; the only actual use of the word “father” is in the third stanza. Armitage describes the way his father came to help him “cart” the harmonium away. The description is not a flattering one, and it echoes the description of the aged musical instrument. The poet's father came in a “blue cloud of tobacco smog, / with smoker's fingers and dottled thumbs.” We can't help but be reminded of the harmonium's yellowing keys and weathered wooden case. The two men carry the instrument “flat, laid on its back,” personifying it. This leads to Armitage's father making a remark that the poet says “he, being him, can't help but say.” The father tells his son that the next box he will carry down the nave of the church will be the father's coffin. The word “coffin” is not actually used, but the father says the box “will bear the freight of his own dead weight.” In other words, it will contain his dead body; the phrase “dead weight” is used literally here, but it can also mean a particularly heavy weight or even an oppressive burden.

The last three lines concentrate on Armitage's emotional response to his father's remark. He begins “And I, being me,” echoing the phrase “And he, being him” that came three lines earlier. Armitage says that his reply was “some shallow or sorry phrase or word” that he mouthed. The lack of precision conveys the idea that he couldn't think of the right or suitable answer to such a poignant remark. The poem closes with the line “too starved of breath to make itself heard.” Armitage was so out of breath from carrying the harmonium that he could not speak loudly enough, and perhaps he didn't want his answer to be heard as he felt that it was inadequate. The last two lines rhyme, and these are the only two consecutive lines in the poem that rhyme with each other.

“Harmonium” is a touching poem that initially appears to be about Armitage's attachment to this musical instrument that, although old and almost worn out, was a part of his childhood. The final stanza, however, introduces his father, and Armitage is clearly affected emotionally by his father's comment on the fact that the poet will soon be carrying his coffin into the church. Armitage's use of imagery, plays on words and sparing use of rhyme create a convincing piece of poetry. He shows that objects that are old and no longer used still have value and the memories they trigger are meaningful. More than that, he links the theme of the harmonium with his feelings towards his aging father, whose death draws ever nearer; confronting this idea, the poet is so emotional that he cannot express himself as he would wish.

Originally published on helium.com

Hawk Roosting, by Ted Hughes

Hawk Roosting

by Ted Hughes

The hawk, a bird of prey, is seen in Ted Hughes' poem “Hawk Roosting” resting on a branch of a tree. The poem is written in the first person as though the hawk is speaking, so it is a dramatic monologue. The hawk seems to see himself as the centre of the universe and creates an impression of arrogance, as though the world were made for him and his purposes.

In the first stanza Hughes introduces the hawk “in the top of the wood.” This high position is an indication of superiority. The bird is very still and its eyes are closed. Hughes uses alliteration of the “k” sound several times in the poem, creating a harsh feeling. The sound exists in the word “hawk” itself, of course, and there are further instances of it in line 3 where “hooked” is repeated. In the fourth line “kills” continues the alliteration. This line describes the hawk imagining killing and eating its prey even while it is asleep. A picture of ruthlessness begins to build up. Interestingly, lines 3 and 4 are the only lines in the poem that rhyme.

The second stanza opens with the exclamation “The convenience of the high trees!” The hawk again refers to its high altitude, and the word “convenience” conveys the idea that its position is an ideal one. The bird can look down on the world below, and the impression is that the wood has been created to suit its needs. Hughes links lines 6 and 7 with enjambment to extend the idea that the hawk can fly with ease and make use of the light from the sun. They are “of advantage to me,” once again emphasising the fact that the hawk considers nature to have been created for its own purposes.

The second stanza closes with the hawk's comment that, from the top of the tree, it can see “the earth's face” looking up and easily observe the details. Everything is just right for this bird of prey.

In the opening line of the third stanza, Hughes again uses alliteration with the hard “k” sound in “locked” and “bark.” The hawk has a tight hold upon the branch, whose surface is “rough.” Hughes uses enjambment once more to link lines 10 and 11, describing how features of the hawk's body were created. The word “Creation” is capitalised, thus making it synonymous with God. The fact that the hawk considers that it took “the whole of Creation” to make its feet and feathers gives the bird an arrogant air. In the final line of this stanza, the hawk sees that positions are now reversed; it holds Creation in one small foot, therefore having become all powerful.

The end of the third stanza and the beginning of the fourth are linked by enjambment, as the hawk shows that it is free to “fly up” and circle the world below at its leisure. Line 14 is an extremely telling one: “I kill where I please because it is all mine.” The hawk considers that it has supreme power and owns the whole earth that it can see below. Its ruthlessness is apparent again in lines 15 and 16, as the hawk says it possesses no “sophistry” or subtle reasoning; it kills by “tearing off heads.” There is no attempt to soften the blow of its hunting methods.

The fifth stanza continues the image of the hawk hunting with the brief phrase “The allotment of death.” The hawk chooses what it kills, and it is brutal. Enjambment again links lines 18 and 19, describing how the hawk's passage takes it “Through the bones of the living.” The stanza closes with the statement “No arguments assert my right,” giving the impression that the hawk's methods of killing are unquestionable. It does not need to justify its actions.

The four lines of the sixth and final stanza are all end stopped, and read as concise, matter-of-fact sentences. They emphasise the idea that what the hawk says goes and cannot be contested. The hawk states “Nothing has changed,” but this is no accident. The bird considers, in the penultimate line of the poem, that it has not allowed anything to change. The poem closes with the line “I am going to keep things like that,” asserting the hawk's power over the whole of nature.

Hughes appears to be using the hawk in this poem as a symbol for power. A hawk would of course act instinctively and kill for the purposes of survival. The implications of “Hawk Roosting” are therefore that the poem is an extended metaphor for the behaviour of a tyrant or power-seeking ruler. Such a person would, as the hawk is in this poem, be self-centred and arrogant. An authoritarian despot would not allow himself or his methods to be questioned, and would see the world around him as being designed to suit his purposes. Ted Hughes, in “Hawk Roosting,” paints a picture of a creature that is ruthless and self-involved, showing how a lust for power can take over a being and end in brutality.

Here is the text of the poem:

I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.

Inaction, no falsifying dream

Between my hooked head and my hooked feet:

Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.

The convenience of the high trees!

The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray

Are of advantage to me;

And the earth's face upward for my inspection.

My feet are locked upon the rough bark.

It took the whole of Creation

To produce my foot, my each feather:

Now I hold Creation in my foot

Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly -

I kill where I please because it is all mine.

There is no sophistry in my body:

My manners are tearing off heads -

The allotment of death.

For the one path of my flight is direct

Through the bones of the living.

No arguments assert my right:

The sun is behind me.

Nothing has changed since I began.

My eye has permitted no change.

I am going to keep things like that.

Originally published on helium.com

The Laboratory, by Robert Browning

The subtitle to Robert Browning's poem “The Laboratory”, “Ancien Regime”, tells us that it is set in France before the revolution, when the old regime of the monarchy was still in place. The poem is a dramatic monologue. The narrator appears to be a woman, a fact which is not apparent in the opening stanza, but becomes so as the poem develops.

In the first stanza, the narrator addresses another person using the terms 'thou' and 'thy', which are the old-fashioned familiar forms of 'you' and 'your'. She is putting on a mask and watching the person in the laboratory through a haze of smoke: 'thro' these faint smokes curling whitely'. The narrator refers to the laboratory as 'this devil's-smithy', which is the first sign that something sinister is going on. The final line of this stanza leaves us in no doubt of this, as the woman asks, 'Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?' The repetition of 'poison' emphasises its importance.

The opening phrase of the second stanza, 'He is with her,' suggests that the narrator has asked for poison to be concocted because she is jealous. It would seem that her lover has deserted her for another woman. She says that they think she is crying and has gone to pray in 'the drear / Empty church'. The couple, meanwhile, are making fun of her, stressed by the repetition of 'laugh' in line 7. The stanza closes with the brief phrase 'I am here', emphasising the setting of the laboratory which is in such sharp contrast to the church.

The phrase 'Grind away' at the start of the third stanza shows the woman's eagerness for the chemist to make the poison. Browning brings the description alive by using alliteration in the phrases 'moisten and mash' and 'Pound at thy powder'. The narrator is not in a hurry and says she would rather watch the concocting of the poison than be dancing at the King's court.

In the fourth stanza the narrator comments on the ingredients of the poison. The chemist is mixing it with a pestle and mortar, and the woman describes the gum from a tree as 'gold oozings', giving the impression that it is both beautiful and valuable. She then looks at a blue liquid in a 'soft phial', finding the colour 'exquisite'. She imagines that it will taste sweet because of its beautiful appearance and is surprised that it is a poison.

Stanza five begins with the narrator wishing she possessed all the ingredients, which she refers to as 'treasures'. Browning uses personification to describe them as 'a wild crowd', and the woman considers them as 'pleasures', a sinister attitude to poisonous substances. The use of the adjective 'invisible' means that just a tiny amount would be required. The narrator delights in the thought of being able to carry 'pure death' in any one of a list of small accessories, such as an earring or a fan-mount.

In the sixth stanza the narrator turns her thoughts to how easy it will be at court to give 'a mere lozenge', like a sweet, that will kill a woman in just half an hour. She names two women in this stanza, Pauline and Elise, and it is not clear if one of them is the current target of her jealousy and desire to murder. She delights at the thought of Elise dying, and Browning uses enjambment to create the list 'her head / And her breast and her arms and her hands', perhaps because she is jealous of Elise's beauty.

The seventh stanza opens with the sudden exclamation 'Quick!' and the narrator is now excited as the poison is ready. She then reveals her disappointment, however, as its colour is 'grim', unlike the blue liquid in the phial. She hoped that it would make her intended victim's drink look so appetising that she would be encouraged to drink it. In the eighth stanza she is concerned about how tiny the amount of poison is: 'What a drop!' She says that the other woman is considerably bigger than her, and thinks that she 'ensnared' or caught the man in her trap because of her size. The narrator is not convinced that the drop of poison will be fatal: 'this never will free / The soul from those masculine eyes'. It will not be enough to stop the victim's pulse, which the narrator describes as 'magnificent'.

In the ninth stanza the narrator recounts, in lines using enjambment, how she had gazed at the other woman the previous evening when her ex-lover was with whispering to her. She had hoped that by staring at her she 'would fall shrivelled'. This obviously did not happen, but the narrator knows that the poison will do its work. Stanza ten has slightly shorter lines than the others, and the narrator addresses the chemist directly. She knows that the poison will act quickly, but she does not want her victim to have an easy death: 'Not that I bid you spare her the pain'. Browning uses alliteration in a cluster of three to describe how the narrator wants the other woman to suffer the effects of the poison, in the phrase 'Brand, burn up, bite'. The stanza ends with the narrator commenting that her ex-lover will always have the memory of the pain on the dying woman's face, and she appears to relish this thought.

The narrator asks the chemist if the poison is ready at the start of the eleventh stanza. She asks him to remove her mask and not to be 'morose', or gloomy. The poison will be lethal for her victim, and she does not want the mask to stop her having a good look at it. She describes it with the alliterative phrase 'a delicate droplet', and alliteration appears again as she comments 'my whole fortune's fee!' meaning that it has cost her everything she owns. In the closing line of the stanza, she wonders if she herself can be harmed by the poison, considering the effect it will have on her victim.

The twelfth and final stanza begins with the narrator once again showing how much the poison is costing her. She tells the chemist 'Now take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill', and the alliteration in the phrase 'gorge gold' adds emphasis. She shows her gratitude by telling the chemist, whom she addresses as 'old man', that he may kiss her on her lips if he would like to. She asks him, however, to 'brush this dust off' her, referring to traces of poison, as she is afraid it will harm her too: 'lest horror it brings'. The poem ends as she proclaims that she will 'dance at the King's!' a triumphant announcement. Whether or not her victim dies from ingesting the poison, we do not know, but she shows no remorse and is obviously determined to go through with her murderous plan.

Browning has used an anapaestic metre in “The Laboratory”, in other words two stressed syllables followed by one unstressed one. This gives the lines of poetry an upbeat, fast-paced rhythm that convey the woman's excitement at the idea of poisoning her victim. Browning has created a character who is totally ruthless and eaten up by jealousy, determined to carry out an act of revenge that will prove fatal to another woman.

In his book “Revise the English and English Literature Anthology,” Tony Childs states that the narrator of “The Laboratory” is based on an imaginary incident in the life of Marie Madeleine Marguerite D'Aubray Brinvilliers (1630-76). In reality, she killed her father and two brothers by poisoning them and also planned to poison her husband. Although her victims were all male, Browning has adapted the character into a dangerously jealous woman targeting her ex-lover's new female interests. His portrait of her is utterly convincing.

Metaphors and Alliteration

Metaphors and alliteration are two quite different figures of speech. Metaphors compare one thing to another by saying something IS something else or DOES something else (as opposed to a simile, where the words LIKE or AS are used in the comparison). Alliteration, on the other hand, is the use of the same consonant at the beginning of words in the same sentence or phrase as each other, sometimes to create a particular mood or atmosphere.

METAPHOR

Shakespeare uses metaphors in “Romeo and Juliet” when Romeo is expressing his idea of love:

'Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;

Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;

Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with loving tears.

What is it else? A madness most discreet,

A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.'

Romeo conjures up these images of love in Act One Scene I, expressing his frustration that Rosaline does not return the love he feels for her. All this is soon forgotten when he sets eyes on Juliet, and he first speaks to her in Act One Scene V. He compares his love for her to the idea of worshipping at a holy shrine, and sees his lips as pilgrims as he is about to kiss Juliet's hand:

'My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

ALLITERATION

Alliteration is used to striking effect by Gerard Manley Hopkins in his poem 'Inversnaid', in which he describes a Scottish burn, or river, splashing down from a height to a lake below:

'In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam

Flutes and low to the lake falls home.'

He skilfully fits three alliterative phrases into two lines of poetry here, using the c, f and l sounds, the latter two intertwining.

In the fourth and final stanza Hopkins uses alliteration with the consonant w in each of the four lines:

'What would the world be, once bereft

Of wet and wildness? Let them be left,

O let them be left, wildness and wet;

Long live the weed and the wilderness yet.'

The subtle shifts from wildness to wilderness and wet to weed are particularly effective. Notice the additional alliterative phrases intervening: 'Let them be left,' and 'Long live.'

Other poems that make extensive use of alliteration are Walt Whitman's 'Patrolling Barnegat' and Seamus Heaney's 'Death of a Naturalist'.

There are several other figures of speech used by poets and authors, including assonance, simile, contrast, onomatopoeia and personification. A writer can bring his work alive by creating vivid images to convey his ideas and describe his experiences.

Sonnet - John Clare

John Clare's simply-titled 'Sonnet' of 1841 is a clear statement of his love of the English summer time. He begins with the phrase 'I love...', and this is repeated in the third line as well as the eleventh, with 'I like...' echoing in the ninth line.

Clare uses imagery to focus on the sights of nature that give him so much pleasure. In the first line, summer is personified as 'beaming forth'. In the second line he skilfully combines alliteration and metaphor in his description of 'white wool sack clouds': his comparison of clouds to wool is fitting in that it keeps the imagery within the domain of nature. Colours of flowers are emphasised in the fourth and fifth lines: 'Mare blobs stain with gold' and 'water lilies whiten'.

In line six, Clare turns to the sound of reeds that 'rustle like wind shook wood', again combining two figures of speech – this time simile and assonance. He expresses his love of watching the Moor Hen searching for her nest in the rushes as well as his admiration of the weeping willow beside the 'clear deep lake'. The long 'ee' sounds in the phrase 'clear deep' emphasis the peace and stillness of the water.

Clare watches flowers swaying and insects flying about in the hay grass in lines eleven and twelve. 'Swings', 'winds' and 'wings' within those two lines build up assonance and alliteration to create a pleasant atmosphere of gentle movement. The final two lines of the sonnet emphasise the fine summer weather and sunshine in the phrases 'bright day' and 'bright beetles'. The insects 'sport about the meadow', giving a feeling of play and enjoyment of the season and the sun. The sonnet ends with a return to the 'clear lake', echoing line ten and giving a sense of unity.

The sonnet is unusual in its lack of punctuation – there is not even a full stop at the end of the final line. The lack of commas or semi-colons allows one line to flow into the next and gives a sense of continuity. The rhyme scheme is, on the other hand, very straightforward and traditional, lending harmony to the sonnet. This is a poem to be appreciated for its simplicity, beautiful imagery and expression of love of nature.

I love to see the summer beaming forth

And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north

I love to see the wild flowers come again

And Mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain

And water lilies whiten on the floods

Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood

Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes

And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes

I like the willow leaning half way o'er

The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore

I love the hay grass when the flower head swings

To summer winds and insects happy wings

That sport about the meadow the bright day

And see bright beetles in the clear lake play

John Clare

1841

The Eagle - Alfred Tennyson

Composed in 1851, Tennyson's poem 'The Eagle' is a brief but vivid glimpse into the world of this powerful bird. In the initial three-line stanza, the eagle is pictured in a lofty position, on a crag 'close to the sun'. Tennyson uses alliteration in the first line: 'He clasps the crag with crooked hands', a hard 'c' sound recurring and then continuing in the word 'Close' at the beginning of the second line. The harsh consonant suggests the lack of comfort on this mountain top. Rather than using a word such as claws or talons, Tennyson likens the eagle to a person with the term 'hands'. The alliteration of the phrase 'lonely lands' in the second line emphasises the bird's solitude. In the final line of the third stanza, the eagle is seen is being 'Ring'd with the azure world”, in other words the sky, so once again his elevated position is focused on.

The opening line of the second stanza switches to the view below the mountain top in the personifying phrase 'The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls'. The waves are reduced to the size of wrinkles, again emphasising how far above the sea the eagle is. In the second line, the eagle is watching 'from his mountain walls', making his position sound secure, protected. In the final line, Tennyson uses a simile to create an image of the bird's swift and powerful descent on his prey: 'And like a thunderbolt he falls.'

The rhyming triplets used in each stanza give a feeling of harmony, where a creature is at one with its environment. The rhythm serves to reinforce this atmosphere. In the second and third lines of the first stanza, the stress falls on the first syllable – 'Close' and 'Ring'd' – again emphasising the eagle's position high up and in the centre of the sky.

In a mere six lines of poetry, Tennyson has constructed a masterly portrayal of the eagle in its natural surroundings.

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands,

Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;

He watches from his mountain walls,

And like a thunderbolt he falls.

Alfred Tennyson

1851

Patrolling Barnegat - Walt Whitman

'Patrolling Barnegat' is a poem that explores nature in all its fury, during a storm at sea. Whitman begins with the repetition of 'wild', leaving us in no doubt as to the mood of the poem. The focus is immediately made clear by the words 'storm' and 'sea'. The personification in the second line, 'roar of the gale', describes the ferocity of the wind, but there is also an 'incessant undertone muttering' – a more subtle sound that never lets up. Sound is again emphasised in the third line with 'Shouts of demoniac laughter'; this is no happy sound, but one associated with evil that is 'piercing' the air every so often.

The cluster of three – 'Waves, air, midnight' – at the start of line four add to the atmosphere, as we now know that this is occurring in the darkest hour. These three are referred to as the 'savagest trinity', a most dangerous combination. Line five tells us that the 'milk-white combs', the crests of the waves, can be distinguished among the shadows, and they are 'careering,' giving a sense of wild, uncontrolled movement. In line six Whitman uses alliteration to create an image of snow falling on the shore: 'On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting'; the repetition of the s gives an impression of the sound of melting snow hitting the ground.

Line seven reminds us of the darkness with 'murk' and the severity of the gale in the phrase 'easterly death-wind' – lives may in fact be in danger. The final word of this line, 'breasting', signals the presence of the coastguards confronting the wind. In line eight they are moving forward, 'watchful and firm' through the 'cutting swirl and spray' of the wind, snow and waves. Line nine is a snatch of conversation in parentheses, as an object is spotted in the distance that may be the wreck of a ship. Someone asks if the red light is flashing, as conditions make this difficult to ascertain.

In line ten the 'slush and sand' of line six are reiterated, and the coastguards are described as 'tireless' as they trudge along until daybreak. Line eleven tells is that they make their way through the storm 'steadily' and 'slowly', and once again the sound is described as a 'hoarse roar', rough and fierce. It is relentless, 'never remitting', echoing the 'incessant ... muttering' of the second line. Line twelve emphasises again that it is midnight, and echoes the alliterative 'milk-white combs careering' of line five.

In line thirteen a direct reference is finally made to the coastguards who are the subject of the poem. They are seen as 'a group of dim, weird forms', a description that again underlines the darkness and difficult conditions which make it impossible to see clearly. They are 'struggling, the night confronting', emphasising just how hard it is for them to move along the shore during a storm and in darkness. The final line of the poem refers again to the 'savage trinity' of line four, in other words the waves, the air and the night. The patrollers are watching all of these 'warily', vigilant, knowing that disaster may strike at any moment.

Were it not for the snatches of conversation in line nine, the poem would consist of one long sentence, creating the impression of the constant wildness of the storm, unceasing. Even in line nine, the exclamation mark and the first question mark are not followed by capital letters, as though separate sentences were not intended. There is no real rhyme scheme, but each line ends with an -ing form, emphasising the movement as the waves lash on the shore and the wind blows mercilessly.

Walt Whitman has painted a picture of nature at its harshest and shown how those who patrolled Barnegat Bay in New Jersey braved such adverse conditions, ever watchful for those in danger at sea.

October - Gillian Clarke

The first stanza of Gillian Clarke's poem 'October' sets an autumnal atmosphere for the poem. The metaphor of 'a dead arm' in line 2 for a branch of a tree that has broken forewarns us of the theme of the poem. Yet there is contrast here too, as the decay is seen against the 'bright' poplar trees whose leaves 'tremble gradually to gold'. Alliteration is skilfully used here as well as in the 'broken branch' and then again in line 4 as a 'sharp shower' turns the face of a stone lion a darker shade. This gloom is underlined at the end of the stanza where the lobelia, seen as the lion's 'dreadlocks', is changing from blue to brown as it dies. The imagery here is rich and describes both the beauty and decay of the season.

At the start of the second stanza, Clarke confronts us with the blunt phrase 'My friend dead', leaving us in no doubt as to the central focus of 'October'. The setting is the graveyard, where alliteration appears again as the coffin is carried to the 'hawthorn hedge'. Clarke portrays her lost friend as being but a slight burden in her coffin: 'lighter / than hare-bones on men's shoulders'. The mourners have 'stony' faces, echoing the statue of the lion from the first stanza. Rain mingles with tears, as there is 'weeping in the air'; there is a softer feel here than the 'sharp shower' stanza 1. Clarke describes the grave with the simile 'deep as a well', perhaps feeling that her friend will be separated from her by a considerable gulf. 'Thud' describes the heavy fall of the earth into the grave, while in contrast the alliterative 'fall of flowers' is a slow one, emphasising their lightness.

The final line of the second stanza consists merely of the phrase 'fall of flowers', and the opening line of the third and final stanza is indented to appear as a continuation of the preceding line, thus forming a stronger link between the second and third stanzas. This final stanza has a tremendous feeling of speed and urgency that is in sharp contrast to the initial part of the poem. Clarke's reaction to her friend's death is that of feeling a need to accomplish as much as possible before the time of her own death. In lines 12 to 13 of the poem she describes how 'the pen / runs faster than wind's white steps over grass'. Her pen is personified, and again alliteration creates a vivid image in 'wind's white steps'. The statement in line 14 'For a while health feels like pain' gives the impression that her grief for her friend was hard to bear at first. This feeling, however, was followed by 'panic', and the pace of the stanza increases again with phrases such as 'running the fields' and 'the racing leaves'. Clarke is desperate to capture the fleeting images of nature: 'holding that robin's eye / in the laurel'. Comparison with the speed of the wind is made once again in the simile of line 18: 'I must write like the wind'. Clarke ends her poem with a sense that she can win the struggle against time and the moment of her death as she continues writing, 'winning ground'.

'October' is a compact poem that gathers pace as it moves forward, beginning with leaves 'gradually' turning gold and ending with the need to 'write like the wind'. Out of the decay of the season of autumn and the sadness at the death of a friend comes motivation and the urgency to write faster and put the transient images of the changing seasons into words before time runs out. Language is used here to create powerful imagery with alliteration, metaphor, simile and contrast all playing a part. 'October' is a skilfully constructed poem that imparts a sense of using every available moment of life to the full.

Kid - Simon Armitage

From the first word of the poem we know that there is a connection here with Batman, and reading on we discover that the narrator here is his sidekick, Robin, now grown up and brimming with confidence.

This is a terrifically fast-paced poem, conveying a sense of the energy and exuberance of youth. The repetition of words ending in -er at the end of each of the twenty-four lines adds to the feeling of speed, with one line rushing into the next.

The poem is packed with witty, self-assured language, plays on words that leave us in no doubt that Robin is taking over the major role from Batman. Abandoned by the 'father figure' that he no longer needs, Robin tells us that he has now 'turned the corner'. He doesn't need to play second fiddle any more, as he tells us in line fourteen 'I'm not playing ball boy any longer'. He has cast off his garish green and red clothes and made his own choice of 'jeans and crew-neck jumper'. He paints a sad picture of Batman, now alone or 'without a shadow', with Robin taking over the role of hero: he triumphantly ends the poem with 'now I'm the real boy wonder.'

Taking a closer look at the language, Armitage has made skilful, witty use of imagery in this poem. There is the alliteration of 'let me loose to wander leeward' overlapping the assonance of 'leeward, freely' in lines 2 to 3 and the idiomatic 'let the cat out on that caper' in line 9. The twelfth and thirteenth lines present us with whole strings of hyphenated phrases that seem to rush along at breakneck speed: 'Holy robin-redbreast-nest-egg-shocker!' to describe Robin's reaction to Batman's brief affair with a married woman where he claimed expenses for dating her. The irony here too is the reference to 'robin-redbreast', as it appears that it was Robin himself who exposed Batman's behaviour in this incident.

In lines 20 to 21 we are presented with the image of Batman 'stewing over chicken giblets' – a clever metaphorical play on words, as Robin builds up a pitiful picture of Batman, now a fallen figure, not even having enough to eat, 'punching the palm of your hand all winter'. In the last line he audaciously refers to the formerly revered hero as 'baby' before making his final 'boy wonder' statement.

Armitage shows us here that even a superhero does not prevail for ever; the trusty sidekick grows up, builds up strength and confidence, and is soon ready to take over the leading role. It's a poem that any younger brother or downtrodden son with a domineering father can take inspiration from. Perhaps any hero-worshipping teenager, aspiring to be famous in one way or another, will find a theme to relate to here. As for the heroes themselves, be warned – one day, someone else is going to take over!

Cold Knap Lake - Gillian Clarke

Gillian Clarke's poem 'Cold Knap Lake' centres around a childhood memory of a girl almost drowning in a lake in Glamorgan (South Wales). The poet, with her parents, 'watched a crowd' of people pull the girl out of the water. It seemed at first that they were too late: the girl's lips were blue and she 'lay for dead'. The metaphor 'dressed in water's long green silk' tells us that she was covered in weeds from the lake.

In the second stanza, Clarke describes her mother as a 'heroine' as she knelt down to resuscitate the girl. The act of kneeling, 'her red head bowed', perhaps suggests a religious act. The mother seems to have been part of the whole rescue operation, 'her wartime cotton frock soaked'. The mention of her red hair is in sharp contrast to the girl's blue lips and gives a feeling of life. Clarke was obviously struck by the idea of her mother reviving 'a stranger's child' with 'her breath'. The crowd of onlookers dare not speak but are compelled to watch, as Clarke tells us in the alliterative phrase 'drawn by the dread of it'.

The third stanza tells us that the girl began breathing; 'bleating' suggests the idea of a baby animal calling for its mother. She is now 'rosy in my mother's hands', the color assuring that she is alive. The poet's father took the girl back to her home; we are told that she came from a poor family. Rather than expressing gratitude for the fact that she survived, her parents 'thrashed' her for having got herself into such danger.

The question 'Was I there?' that opens the fourth stanza signals a change in the poem. It stands out, as it is the shortest line in the entire poem and comes at the beginning of a stanza. It suggests that the poet, now of course an adult, is unsure as to whether she actually saw the girl being beaten or whether this is something her father told her about. The following five lines of the stanza form one long question that centres around an extended metaphor where the waters of the lake represent the memory. This second question refers to the 'troubled surface' of both the mind and the water. The imagery here is rich, from the alliteration of 'surface something else/shadowy' continuing with the personification of the 'dipped fingers of willows', which links back to the fingers of the child in the water. The 'satiny mud blooms' of line 18 are reminiscent of 'water's long green silk' in the first stanza. The 'cloudiness' of the muddy water is a symbol of the haziness of our memories. The assonance in the phrase 'treading heavy webs' in the following line creates a vivid image where it is the webbed feet of swans that are disturbing the water, just as certain events provoke unclear thoughts about the past in our minds. The stanza and the extended question close with the evocative sounds of the swans' wings that 'beat and whistle'.

The poem ends with a pair of rhyming couplets:

'All lost things lie under closing water

in that lake with the poor man's daughter.'

'Lost things' suggests memories that we can no longer recall, buried deep in our minds. The final line connects back to the initial focus of the poem, the girl who almost drowned. Alliteration of 'All lost things lie ... in that lake' serves to tie together the ideas of the memory and the drowning incident. 'Water' and 'daughter' are in fact the only rhyming words that appear in successive lines in the entire poem. In the first stanza, we could consider 'lake' and 'silk' (lines 3 and 4) as a half rhyme. Stanza two has 'earth' at the end of the opening line and 'breath' at the end of the fourth line, another half rhyme. The third stanza's first line ends with 'bleating' and its last line with 'drowning'. The fourth stanza does have two rhyming words, 'there' and 'air', one at the end of its first line and the other at the end of its last line, and each is the final word in a question.

The pattern of the stanzas is an interesting one, as the first and third stanzas have four lines each and the second and fourth six lines each, with the rhyming couplets standing out at the end of the poem. The lines vary in length, with the shortest one, 'Was I there?', drawing attention at the start of the fourth stanza.

In 'Cold Knap Lake', Gillian Clarke has created a fascinating poem that seems to focus on one particular dramatic event she witnessed in her childhood but develops into an expression of how our memories of the past are a part of us that may fade or play tricks on us with the passage of time.