‘The Purist’ – a poem by Ogden Nash

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Best wishes

Lis Goodwin – your voice coach

www.gloriousvoicecoaching.com

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A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty – a poem by Ogden Nash

Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.

Miranda in Miranda’s sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
Twenty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is thirty.

Shining like the morning star,
Like the twilight shining,
Haunted by a calendar,
Miranda is a-pining.

Silly girl, silver girl,
Draw the mirror toward you;
Time who makes the years to whirl
Adorned as he adored you.

Time is timelessness for you;
Calendars for the human;
What’s a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?

Oh, Night will not see thirty again,
Yet soft her wing, Miranda;
Pick up your glass and tell me, then–
How old is Spring, Miranda?

Ogden Nash

A lovely poem full of whimsy and joy – I hope you enjoyed it!

Best wishes

Lis Goodwin – your voice coach

www.gloriousvoicecoahcing.com

More About People – a poem by Ogden Nash

When people aren’t asking questions

They’re making suggestions

And when they’re not doing one of those

They’re either looking over your shoulder or stepping on your toes

And then as if that weren’t enough to annoy you

They employ you.

Anybody at leisure

Incurs everybody’s displeasure.

It seems to be very irking

To people at work to see other people not working,

So they tell you that work is wonderful medicine,

Just look at Firestone and Ford and Edison,

And they lecture you till they’re out of breath or something

And then if you don’t succumb they starve you to death or something.

All of which results in a nasty quirk:

That if you don’t want to work you have to work to earn enough money so that you won’t have to work.

Ogden Nash

This poem is kind of true! The world of work might not be much fun for many, but I think one of the greatest endeavours in life is to find work which you enjoy.

confucius

When we love what we do, we give it our all, and enjoy simply doing a job well.

Best wishes

Lis Goodwin, your voice coach

http://www.gloriousvoicecoaching.com

Tableau At Twilight – a poem by Ogden Nash

I sit in the dusk. I am all alone.
Enter a child and an ice-cream cone.

A parent is easily beguiled
By sight of this coniferous child.

The friendly embers warmer gleam,
The cone begins to drip ice cream.

Cones are composed of many a vitamin.
My lap is not the place to bitamin.

Although my raiment is not chinchilla,
I flinch to see it become vanilla.

Coniferous child, when vanilla melts
I’d rather it melted somewhere else.

Exit child with remains of cone.
I sit in the dusk. I am all alone,

Muttering spells like an angry Druid,
Alone, in the dusk, with the cleaning fluid.

Ogden Nash

Notes: The word ‘bitamin’ is a nonsense word intended to rhyme with ‘vitamin’ – in the traditional pronunciation, the ‘vit’ part would rhyme with ‘bite’. This is because vitamin is short for ‘vital amine’

Coniferous refers to something which bears cones – normally it’s trees which are coniferous, bearing cones:

I hope you enjoyed this poem with notes!

Best wishes

Lis Goodwin, your voice coach