Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me;
"Here he lies where he longed to be,
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill."
I've been waiting a long time to post this poem - but because it's so morbid (kind of) I thought I'd better be pretty happy when I posted it just so that people wouldn't get the wrong idea. It's just... heck read the poem - I have dozens of times, and it never seems to get old.
An exciting week or so and I've been nominated for a Vogel award - which is absolutely awesome. My children's story "Frankie and the Netball Clone" somehow made the list. And I'm hoping to be able to release some more exciting news soon, I'm just not sure when....
Have a great week everybody and don't forget to check out the Tuesday Poem where a certain Zireaux has injected his own brand of humour into the main post - and of course there are so many fantastic poems and more (such as such as Catty Rox's Nuts and Bolts entry about the realities of professional writing) - right here.
Cheers,
A.J.
A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Arty Bees, The Children's Bookshop and good Wellington bookstores
Congratulations on your nomination, Alicia.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem too, which is often misquoted (as on RLS's grave in Samoa, apparently) with an extra 'the' before the word sea.
I read it at the annual Dead Poets' Dinner in Canberra, which is not a zombie event, but a dinner where everyone who wants to chooses a poem by a dead poet. This seemed appropriate for all the dead poets.
Always enjoy your selections.
Hi Alicia,
ReplyDeleteI love this poem, too, as did my mother. When she died after a prolonged and very hard illness, it felt absolutely right to quote the last two lines in her funeral notice:
"Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill."