Oh, let us journey thither once again,
That I again may sit beneath the sky
Amid the tents and pines and friendly folk
And let the glory of the shining sound
Of thrilling music wash over my ears—
Or pass the time in happy fellowship
With longed-for friends whom I so rarely see—
Or dance away the two hours that I may
With new acquaintances, or with dear friends—
Oh, let us join the thronging multitude
For that short week of bliss, and stress, and glory.
I wrote this poem a couple of weeks ago, when my family was still in early discussions of whether we’d be able to go to Evart this year; the poem’s about that glorious yearly event. (We’ve now determined that, unless something goes badly wrong, we’ll be able to go; we plan on leaving Monday, so I may miss a few posts in the next week or so.) I’m not entirely happy with these lines, but since I can’t think of any specific changes (and I am my own worst critic) I decided to post it now.
As always, I earnestly welcome your comments, suggestions (perhaps of a real title for this poem?), questions, critique, or other feedback about this or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you liked this poem, or you didn’t like it, or it made you think of something, or … please leave a comment to let me know.) If you liked this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday, or read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (starting with yesterday’s archive installment, since the full archive is by now, at well over a hundred poems, somewhat daunting); I’d especially like to know, as part of my preparations for a collection, which poems you think are my best. You may also share it with others, subject to my sharing policy.
This poem is also archived on my wiki.