This poem started out in a different way; it was originally meant to be a 6-month dating anniversary and one-year meeting anniversary present for my English-major honey. We had a class together winter 2009, and our first conversation basically consisted of my challenging his choice of major--a major to which I myself was converted by spring of the same year.
Anway--I was pleasantly surprised with these skewed results.
Falling for My English Major
I was minding my own business, really,
“What will you do with an English degree?”
Daddy’s little parrot.
And yet I was falling fast—not for his serious green eyes
and curious half laugh,
or even his memory for Robert Frost’s rhyme,
But for (even) older men:
Arsenic-tongued Edgar Allen and dear William’s dreary drawls,
Joseph’s tortured rhetoric (through his beautifully thick accent).
Spring is the season of lovers, they say,
And I met Robert and Lord Alfred,
Walt and Henry David, Mark (my Sammy) and Charley D.
I was reacquainted with Willy’s wonderful wit and wisdom,
but breathed last at John, dearest, sightless John,
who saw more than I had ever glimpsed:
I had never loved before.
And of course Clive and John Ronny Reuel
Already held my heart, happy imprisonment—
I was dr
els and toes-over-nose,
My parents were worried, my peace of mind shattered—
Every thought, every breath, every tingling touch of thick, creamy paper
was a blessing—and a curse—and I found myself, me!
cursing and crying and thanking the stars at 2 am,
reading those last few, blurred words through salty adoration.
It could not be ignored.
I whispered to the green form which promised all my dreams a reality.
“What?” the English major counselor squawked,
“Sorry,” I said, and signed.
key for non english majors: edgar allen poe, william faulkner, joseph conrad, robert browning, alfred lord tennyson, walt whitman, henry david thoreau, mark twain (samuel clemens), charles dickens, william shakespeare, John Milton, C. S. lewis and J. r.r. tolkien.