"...I believe I have seen Hell. It is white. Snow white." --Margaret Hale, North & South
Recently, I discovered BBC's 2004 mini-series North & South, based on the novel by Elizabeth Gaskell. Mr. Thornton is played by Richard Armitage (The Hobbit, Thorin, the dwarf king). It's my new fave!! although there are some things I wish were different about the story. I haven't finished the book yet, though, so I'll save my criticisms for a review.
Here's just a quick summary: it's a love story about two middle-class people--ex-clergyman's daughter, Margaret Hale, and cotton mill owner and town magistrate, John Thornton. It's set mostly in the made-up town of Milton, in 1850, so it's quite a bit more modern than Pride & Prejudice (which I also like!) and has technology like trains and machines in factories. The two main conflicts are between 1) Margaret and Mr. Thornton, obviously, and 2) the mill workers and the owners, the "masters."
Like all the shows I suddenly become crazy about, North & South influenced my writing. It started me on a story set in 17th century England and inspired this week's poem. My assignment was to work with rhyme. I had a long list of different types of rhyme to choose from: masculine (which I tend to use the most), feminine, perfect, slant, implied (I'll have to try to use this one sometime...), assonant, consonant, internal, and alliteration.
I know I usually skip past the long poems in anthologies, but I hope you don't skip this! I think (I hope) it will be worth your read.
"By Definition,
Gentleman"
Recently, I discovered BBC's 2004 mini-series North & South, based on the novel by Elizabeth Gaskell. Mr. Thornton is played by Richard Armitage (The Hobbit, Thorin, the dwarf king). It's my new fave!! although there are some things I wish were different about the story. I haven't finished the book yet, though, so I'll save my criticisms for a review.
Here's just a quick summary: it's a love story about two middle-class people--ex-clergyman's daughter, Margaret Hale, and cotton mill owner and town magistrate, John Thornton. It's set mostly in the made-up town of Milton, in 1850, so it's quite a bit more modern than Pride & Prejudice (which I also like!) and has technology like trains and machines in factories. The two main conflicts are between 1) Margaret and Mr. Thornton, obviously, and 2) the mill workers and the owners, the "masters."
Like all the shows I suddenly become crazy about, North & South influenced my writing. It started me on a story set in 17th century England and inspired this week's poem. My assignment was to work with rhyme. I had a long list of different types of rhyme to choose from: masculine (which I tend to use the most), feminine, perfect, slant, implied (I'll have to try to use this one sometime...), assonant, consonant, internal, and alliteration.
I know I usually skip past the long poems in anthologies, but I hope you don't skip this! I think (I hope) it will be worth your read.
Free photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net |
There was a man who
fell asleep with head upon his desk
Linen collar, dinner
parties—victories slowly won
A past of shoeless
cold, and hunger, finally undone
The candle stubs left
little room for empty flask or keg
He counted out no
more or less than what his workers earned
A servant made the
fire in his mother's sitting room
His sister wore new
gowns and had a dowry for her groom
He lost no bets by
making none, his businesses were firm
His strident shout
was warning, and if scoundrels didn't know to run
They'd know his
bloody knuckles, and boots would speed their flight,
Yet “Sym-pa-thy” he
dictated and urchins learned to write—
Philosopher's and
poet's works were ever on his tongue
But silence more than
recitations bended ears his way
When most would boast
or spit upon another fellow's pride
Or look the other way
and twist the truth, he didn't lie
Curses, bribes, and
flattery alike he brushed away
And though he rarely
complimented ladies evening gowns
He rose when they
approached and kept all crude remarks aside
And speaking of the
ladies in their eyes were sparks alight
Some with scoffing,
some with sighs—there was but one he called his own
Even in the streets
his calloused hand kept hers enclosed
No one, no word, no
weapon, and no will would come between
the guardian angel
and the queen,
And though she
stumble, turn away, his arms were never closed.
He may no longer tip his
hat but he is still among the few
He who I see from
time to time, changing flats in mid-July
Who puts his arm
round baby sister still and lets her cry,
Passed down from eras
past who if I find I'll hold onto, and who I shall never lose.
What...
...was your favorite type of rhyme?
...didn't make sense?
...did I leave out of the portrait?
Critique away.
Actually. Excellent! I didn't know you were such a poet. This is as good as any poem I read during senior AP Lit class.
ReplyDeleteOOoooooh yay! XD
DeleteThis was very lovely. I enjoyed reading it, keep up the great work!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much! X)
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