.
Delightfully Mine
Of handsome landscapes I admire,
How few were planned to please my sight.
High skies of which I never tire
Are gifts of light, not owned by right.
The borrowed mountainsides I see
Beyond the field I cultivate,
The sparkling seashore’s fluency,
I merely try to navigate.
Another’s notes upon a score
Chart music in which I partake;
Aromas of fresh bread next door
Compete with homemade sunshine cake.
The raptures read in obscure verse
Or writ by you whose work I relish,
Sing semiquavers I rehearse,
Supplying concepts to embellish.
Your courtesy stirs me, I confess,
Strangers who open doors for me;
I cherish friends I don’t possess,
Taste cordials each one pours for me.
Your conversation, looks and smiles,
Impossible to overprize,
Transport me to elysian isles
Where entertainment edifies.
There’s zest in exercise and rest,
Pleasure in pilgrim journeying,
Praise in accomplishing beaux gestes,
And when time’s up, relinquishing.
.
.
Margaret Coats lives in California. She holds a Ph.D. in English and American Literature and Language from Harvard University. She has retired from a career of teaching literature, languages, and writing that included considerable work in homeschooling for her own family and others.
What a lovely warm poem and your rhyming is a delight to the ear. Allegra
Thank you, Allegra, especially for noticing the varied kinds of rhyme.
This is lovely.
Thanks, Tonia!
Margaret, that is a wonderful way to express the message “the best things in life are free.” I really appreciate the appealing rhyme and meter with precious imagery that dazzles in one of your less erudite exuding poems. I return the comment the couple of times you indicated and will paraphrase, sometimes the simpler, the more charming and delightful. The ability to write at different levels with elan and taste is what contributes to your reputation as a classically wonderful poet(ess).
Thank you for such a compliment, Roy! I accept the designation “poetess” with joy, just as I appreciate doors opened for me. This poem began from a reflection on courteous men of all ages and appearances at the gas station, who open doors even when there is no apparent need, despite the real risk of angry ingratitude from woke women. What a sad waste of an opportunity to receive and give delight in life!
Delightfully yours… and now delightfully mine. Such lovely verse and message. Thank you Margaret.
Thanks, Norma! You take it as intended by reflecting it back.
All good things are gifts, in the sense that we may not be able to claim them as our personal property, but in the sense that they may be appreciated. These are delightful quatrains.
Keen, succinct analysis, Joe, and I’m glad you taste the flavor!
Margaret – this poem, with its lovely rhyme, meter, and imagery, is – dare I say – “impossible to overprize”!
So very kind of you, Russel! Such a grand comment, although taken from my words, means the poem managed to express beauty and goodness I found, but didn’t make, in exploring delight.
Many are the signals that elicit our response, and this poem, Margaret, runs rife with them. Poems should show, consciously or not, those rhetorical flourishes that point -simultaneously- to layered and complete meanings. For example, this poem may be a general statement on the beauty of God’s creation while at the same time makes an acknowledgment of another’s (a Muse perhaps) acts of love.
“The raptures read in obscure verse
Or writ by you whose work I relish,”
comes as a marker in the middle of the poem. Then follows the praise: your courtesy, your conversation. Much have you, Margaret, “traveled in the realms of gold,” and like the attentive reader you are (I sense a little “Imitation of Christ” in your choice of “relinquishing,” which of course means to “leave back” or “abandon”), you cover ALL the senses throughout the lyric.
This bears repeat reading out loud and underlining all the wonderful tropes!
FULL DISCLOSURE: Though the writer and poet are both Californians, one has never met the other, and the other has never read this poem prior to this date.
Thank you, Jonathan, for making the effort to type out a close reading like those I so often like to do myself. The marker lines you see in the central stanza function both as transition and as a compliment to many of you here at the Society of Classical Poets, whose poems delight me as do the obscure works I discover in the past, and sometimes bring here in translation. I much appreciate your allusion to Keats in reference to my reading. I usually do have someone else read my poems before I submit them for publication; my husband and others make important contributions. But this one was first read by Evan Mantyk, and from his response I think and hope he recognized a compliment to himself for both his own writing and his weighty work as editor, in presenting many, many opportunities for delight to all readers at SCP. You, Jonathan, are also correct to give a little special focus to the final word of this poem. Our response to created delights does often call for sacrifice in imitation of Christ, who in His human nature is our finest example of discretion in appreciating God’s good gifts.
Margaret, what an absolute delight of a poem this is! It is as structurally simple a poem as I’ve ever seen emerge from your pen, the form, the rhymes, the rhythm… Simple but far from simplistic! I’m reminded of Rembrandt sketches which demonstrate all of his skill as a master artist but reduced to lines and curves of great beauty. We know the artistic heights of which he is capable — but sometimes less is more.
The theme of this poem is a generous one in which the speaker finds so many sources of joy from the circumstances she finds herself, whether regarding the beauty of nature or appreciating the the neighbor’s cooking, the music or verse written by others, and even the most seemingly trivial acts of courtesy and consideration. These images and thoughts are deeply inspiring in their simple perfection. I think this is a clarion call to express gratitude for being alive and for a life well-lived.
Brian, thanks for your generous and all-around appreciation. There is inspiration everywhere, not always easy to notice, but very much a part of our being human to see and to give.
This is totally delightful Margaret, I love it. I just so happened to settle down for some screen time with contemporary Tennessee Bluegrass accompaniment https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7GrxA1VjU0
when I found your beautiful poem in my inbox.
Somehow the music, the picture, and the poem go together so well for me that I feel like I’m being treated to a little slice of paradise right now. My cup runneth over, thank you!
Thank you for relaying the music, Yael. In what unexpected ways we receive these delightful slices of paradise! And speaking of slices, “sunshine cake” is a real kind of orange-and-lemon cake, bursting with rich citrus flavor. Still, it is as good as the wine in this picture looks.
Margaret, I really like it, especially the rhymes (my favorite is relish/embellish). It reminds me of the verse, “Every best gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of Lights.”
Yes, certainly, Joshua, the Father of Lights is a giver who cannot be outdone. “Delight” in English makes a true connection with Him, and I’m glad you see the poem in this light.
Margaret, this now delightfully belongs to all of us. A lovely spoonful of joy from a great poetess. Thank you.
Jeff, I’m happy to contribute it! Appreciate your appreciation and your comment.
Such a lovely lyric this is, yet so fraught with trenchant insight into the nature of our relationship with the created world. It’s a departure from your usual surgical explorations of matters pertaining to the literary intellect, a gift as relaxing to the reader as writing it must have been for the writer.
Thanks, C.B., I’m happy you find it lovely and relaxing! While most of it may have come to me more easily than many other poems, I am not one to relax over finishing touches. This one had to wait a couple of weeks, all for the better, I believe!
A wonderful poem. Apparently, according to David Brookes, the NY columnist, the usage of the word ‘gratitude’ in our time is down 52%, which is a shame – and your poem points us to more of it in a delightful way. GK Chesterton said, “I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” Exactly. Thank you.
As you say, James, there is much associated with gratitude, not just the emotion or expression of thanks, but also happiness and wonder and the delight that I took as subject of this poem. Thus I managed to write a piece very much dealing with gratitude but without naming it! So glad you enjoy it, and I too feel we would be better for more said on the subject.
It’s beautiful and inspiring. I love it!
Thank you so much for saying so, Lucia!
A playful and graceful poem about the underappreciated pleasures of detachment. It has the magic of a gratitude list; everything is elevated when you give thanks for it. And thanksgiving and detachment go hand in hand. I especially love the line about cordials, how the double meaning of cordial shimmers in it. And, I agree, it’s powerful to meet chivalry out in the jungle of the world (especially in a situation of real-life distress).
Thanks, Monika. You are correct to say that detachment and thanksgiving (by which a recipient elevates gift, giver, and self) go hand in hand. We can fully enjoy something delightful when we are realistic about it and our place in relation to it. Cordial glasses tend to be small! Courtesy usually costs us nothing, yet starts a series of events in which each person touched by it becomes happier and more willing to pass it along. Even when chivalry involves serious time and effort (like helping fix something or providing company when it is most needed) I usually find that no reward is wanted at all. And out in the jungle of the world, I am happy to see that men of varied ages and backgrounds still respond to the call!
I liked the poem. I liked very much also one of Petrarcha’s that you had translated, Ms. Coats, about the passing of his wife. Thank you.
Many thanks, Peirithus. I remember seeing a comment, most likely by you, on my translation of Petrarch entitled “Canzone on a Dream of Laura.” The dream takes place long after the death of Petrarch’s beloved Laura, because poems he wrote immediately afterwards show him utterly distraught with grief, and unable to think or communicate as he does in the lovely canzone where he tells of the dream. Thank you again for your appreciation there as well as here!