How blest to meet new friends;
How more to meet again
With dearer friends of old,
Whether in vibrant flesh
Or ether made alive
By carried words alone.
O happy silver fate;
O happier the gold,
But best of all to hold
Dear friends, both old and new,
In mind and eye and heart.

I began today’s poem earlier this week, sitting in class near a new acquaintance whom I have come to regard as a friend even in this short time, after a dear older friend reconnected virtually. (I was surprised to find that trimeter—my most restrictive meter yet—was the best fit for the opening lines.) When I returned to it, an old folk song (nursery rhyme, even) got stuck in my head and I had to put that in.

As always, I earnestly welcome your comments, suggestions, questions, critique, or other feedback about this or any other part of my work. 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 those linked from one of the “archive” installments, since the full archive is by now, at over two 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 is also archived on my wiki.


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