Thoughts Arise

The thoughts that arise in me.
Like currents journeying through the windless deep.
And everything but sleep.
They are quiet, as under the sea.
Dreamers, mark the honey bee;
Full of sweet dreams, and health and quiet breathing
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Yet it well might be that never be for me.

John Clare: “Song’s Eternity”
George Meredith: “Dirge in Woods”
Alfred, Lord Tennyson: “Break, Break, Break”
Willam Cullen Bryant: “The Poet”
Algernon Charles Swinburne “The Garden of Proserpine”
Margaret E. Sangster: “Our Own”
John Keats: “A Thing of Beauty”
Henry Wandsworth Longfellow: “The Village Blacksmith”

April 5th Prompt: A cento is a poem composed of lines from various sources, pieced together like a quilt – as its name in Latin, “patchwork,” suggests. If you’ve been keeping a notebook, you can mine it to write a cento. If not, go on the lookout for many disparate lines and then stitch them up into a poem.


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