  Poetry
This week: Katherine Mansfield Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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Covering Wings
By Katherine Mansfield
Love! Love! Your tenderness,
Your beautiful, watchful ways
Grasp me, fold me, cover me;
I lie in a kind of daze,
Neither asleep nor yet awake,
Neither a bud nor flower.
Brings to-morrow
Joy or sorrow,
The black or the golden hour?
Love! Love! You pity me so!
Chide me, scold me--cry,
"Submit--submit! You must not fight!"
What may I do, then? Die?
But, oh my horror of quiet beds!
How can I longer stay!
"One to be ready,
Two to be steady,
Three to be off and away!"
Darling heart--your gravity!
Your sorrowful, mournful gaze--
"Two bleached roads lie under the moon,
At the parting of the ways."
But the tiny, tree-thatched, narrow lane,
Isn't it yours and mine?
The blue-bells ring
Hey, ding-a-ding, ding!
And buds are thick on the vine.
Love! Love! Grief of my heart!
As a tree droops over a stream
You hush me, lull me, dark me,
The shadow hiding the gleam.
Your drooping and tragical boughs of grace
Are heavy as though with rain.
Run! Run!
Into the sun!
Let us be children again.
On October 14th 1888, Annie and Harold Beauchamp welcomed daughter Kathleen Mansfield Beauchamp into their family. Harold Beauchamp was a clerk at the local bank. Kathleen's family started out in a small house in Wellington, New Zealand. Her father quickly advanced at the bank and the little home she spent her early childhood in, was replaced with a larger home in town. Kathleen had two sisters and one brother. She was also first cousin of Countess Elizabeth von Arnim. Her first published story appeared in her high school magazine.
At the age of fourteen Kathleen moved to London to attended Queen's College. She played her cello at the school and was not interested in pursuing literature at that time. It wasn't until she left the school and returned home that she turned to her writing. After living in London for several years, returning to New Zealand was just too slow for her. She missed the fast moving pace of the city. She returned to London in 1908. Within three weeks she had married George Bowden and was pregnant by another man. She ended up having a miscarriage and leaving George Bowden.
In 1909, Kathleen Mansfield Beauchamp took on the pen name Kathleen Mansfield. Then in 1911 Kathleen's first collection of short stories, In German Pension, was published. Kathleen contracted a sexually transmitted disease shortly after the book was published. This disease would change her views of herself for the rest of her life. Kathleen was upset with the lack of interest in her first book so she published another story in "Rhythm" magazine. The Woman at the Store was a hit and she moved in with the editor John Middleton Murry. Her brother was killed October 1915, while serving in World War I. After his death she continued her writing but mostly for herself, not for publication. The next few years were full of pain for Kathleen. She contracted Tuberculosis and suffered a hemorrhage in 1918. Prelude was published that same year. Bliss and The Garden Party were published in the early 1920's.
In February 1922 Kathleen began treatment for her illness, the unorthodox treatments left her in more pain. Kathleen believed that her sour outlook on life had contributed to her failing health so she turned to a spiritual approach to life. She moved to Georges Gurdjieff's Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man. On January 9, 1923 Kathleen suffered a pulmonary hemorrhage and died. Murry took it upon himself to publish Kathleen's other books and in 1923 The Dove's Nest was published fallowed by Something Childish in 1924. Kathleen's book of poems The Aloe came out later that same year.
Very Early Spring
by Katherine Mansfield
The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky--
So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold.
Now the sun walks in the forest,
He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;
They shiver, and wake from slumber.
Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls.
Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears....
A wind dances over the fields.
Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,
Yet the little blue lakes tremble
And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.
A Day in Bed
By Katherine Mansfield
I wish I had not got a cold,
The wind is big and wild,
I wish that I was very old,
Not just a little child.
Somehow the day is very long
Just keeping here, alone;
I do not like the big wind's song,
He's growling for a bone
He's like an awful dog we had
Who used to creep around
And snatch at things--he was so bad,
With just that horrid sound.
I'm sitting up and nurse has made
Me wear a woolly shawl;
I wish I was not so afraid;
It's horrid to be small.
It really feels quite like a day
Since I have had my tea;
P'raps everybody's gone away
And just forgotten me.
And oh! I cannot go to sleep
Although I am in bed.
The wind keeps going creepy-creep
And waiting to be fed.
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
The Forest of Fear
I have not forgotten
what fear can do to my mind.
It is worse than being
lost in a forest with a fog around me.
My feet cannot move.
My heart races.
I hold my breath
to pay attention to any sound.
And when that moment of fear subsides,
I see a friend who
shares a small, warm fire with me.
We sit silently,
listening to the crackling sound of the fire.
All becomes calm and clear.
We walk together until
I am free of my fear.
I turn to say Thank you,
but my friend is gone.
He has left me in a beautiful meadow
and gone to help others who are lost.
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Poetry: August 29, 2012 Issue [#5233]
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