The first National Poetry Month was held in 1996.
“Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.” — Percy Bysshe Shelley, from A Defence of Poetry and Other Essays.
© I’m Just A Philanthropist with An Old Soul
Every Day Is A New Day with You
All Rights Reserved
You can’t go back again
And expect everything to be the same—
You stole more than trinkets.
Still, I replay you and me;
It’s a loop of happy reveries.
Spring again and I’m shedding
All the unneeded parts of my
protective coat without a second thought.
Now, with the dust jacket removed,
all I see is our story,
Not the actors in it.
Just as a room full of students
Sharpening their pencils,
Or Mom frying bacon early in the morning,
You are one of my favorite smells...
Burned on my memory until the end.
(painting: Quentin Massys, Netherlandish, Ill-Matched Lovers, c. 1520-1525)