It’s not often that I read poetry. It’s all too silly for me. Even Shakespeare makes me roll my eyes. I just want a story, not a story wrapped up in pretty language.
Still a trip a few years back to visit a grandmother resulted in a van full of books that came home with me. Among the treasures were a few books of poetry, and recently I cracked a few open to see what I was missing.
In a book, “Castles in the Air,” which was published in 1937 by the Martin Printing Co. of Jackson, Ohio, there was this poem by Minnie Summers McMillen:
MY CASTLES IN AIR
I have often been called
A dreamer of dreams,
A builder of castles in the air.
But if you could see
All the wonders I’ve seen,
You, too, would long to be there.
In my castles in air
There are treasures untold
Priceless gems of rare beauty and hue,
And friendships more precious than silver or gold
And love that is loyal and true.
And thoughts come as guests
From some magical Isle,
And tarry a while with me there,
And all is white peace
In my soul for a while
When I visit my castles in air.
And when I come back to the old earth again
With its manifold duties and care,
I find new strength
I have gained in my flight
When I visit my castles in the air.
I have to admit that when I opened that book, I didn’t expect a poem to describe my experiences so well. And here this is, a 72-year-old relic, telling people all about me. Amazing.
Maybe there is something to this poetry stuff.
Image courtesy of Ioglass of Deviant Art, which you can find here.