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Posted: 28 Aug 06, 12:20 Edit this post Reply to this post Reply with Quote

Happy birthday, Sir John Betjeman. He would have been 100 today. For me he was a poet of remarkable genius, able to sum up place and people like no others. His humour and deceptive simplicity masked a thorough understanding of poetry and often darker emotions too. As a tribute I post my favourite poem of his, "Myfanwy"

Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy,
White o’er the playpen the sheen of her dress,
Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery
Soap scented fingers I long to caress.

Were you a prefect and head of your dormit’ry?
Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym?
Who was your favourite? Who had a crush on you?
Which were the baths where they taught you to swim?

Smooth down the Avenue glitters the bicycle,
Black-stockinged legs under navy blue serge,
Home and Colonial, Star, International,
Balancing bicycle leant on the verge.

Trace me your wheel-tracks, you fortunate bicycle,
Out of the shopping and into the dark,
Back down the avenue, back to the pottingshed,
Back to the house on the fringe of the park.

Golden the light on the locks of Myfanwy,
Golden the light on the book on her knee,
Finger marked pages of Rackham’s Hans Anderson,
Time for the children to come down to tea.

Oh! Fullers angel-cake, Robertson’s marmalade,
Liberty lampshade, come shine on us all,
My! what a spread for the friends of Myfanwy,
Some in the alcove and some in the hall.

Then what sardines in half-lighted passages!
Locking of fingers in long hide-and-seek.
You will protect me, my silken Myfanwy,
Ring leader, tom-boy, and chum to the weak.

thomasquinn 32989 user not visiting
thomasquinn 32989
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Posted: 29 Aug 06, 06:26 Edit this post Reply to this post Reply with Quote

The problem with this guy is, his style was approximately 50 years older than he was. The way his poems were composed were fitting for early to mid Romantic-era poetry, but a painful anachronism in his own days, little under a century after the previously mentioned period.

But I do say he was lucky: having T.S. Eliot as a teacher would be heaven! Considering he also couldn't stand C.S. Lewis, he can't have been much of a religious freak either, seeing as religion was all that kept Lewis' molecules together.

Not Plutus but Apollo rules Parnassus