{"id":95375,"date":"2021-06-26T18:18:00","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T22:18:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=95375"},"modified":"2021-06-27T22:08:29","modified_gmt":"2021-06-28T02:08:29","slug":"poem-10-a-tribute-to-elizabeth-barret-browning","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/poem-10-a-tribute-to-elizabeth-barret-browning\/","title":{"rendered":"Poem 10:\u00a0 A Tribute to Elizabeth Barret Browning  &#8220;Advice&#8221;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I seldom saw myself<\/p>\n<p>The wisdom comes late, and slowly<\/p>\n<p>Those days were lonely<\/p>\n<p>an unknowing fate, innocence<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Little calculation, or even thought<\/p>\n<p>A brief sight. Of nature<\/p>\n<p>Full of warning and advice<\/p>\n<p>occasional, subtle delight.\u00a0 Blindness<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The wonder drops<\/p>\n<p>From fear. And being told.<\/p>\n<p>The prolific rights and wrongs.<\/p>\n<p>Not clear. Angry<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Beginning to right<\/p>\n<p>My eager hand. Tracing<\/p>\n<p>memories and hopeful dreams<\/p>\n<p>Written in sand. Ready to be swept away.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I heard words.<\/p>\n<p>But the voices unsure. I am Uncertain<\/p>\n<p>walking with careful steps<\/p>\n<p>to endure. Not listening.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>My heartbeat unfound.<\/p>\n<p>In my thoughts. A miracle<\/p>\n<p>a flavour of violence<\/p>\n<p>I sought. Unimaginable peace.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Friends. Playful<\/p>\n<p>Hiding games. Laughter.<\/p>\n<p>What do they think of me.<\/p>\n<p>Calling each other names. We don\u2019t mean what we say.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Difference and sameness<\/p>\n<p>The woods. Do they come to us<\/p>\n<p>or we go there to explore<\/p>\n<p>The questions of maybes and coulds. Answered as we run<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Seen and not heard.<\/p>\n<p>Is that all. Is that the world.<\/p>\n<p>Am I invisible<\/p>\n<p>I call. There is an echo<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u00a0 I seldom saw myself The wisdom comes late, and slowly Those days were lonely an unknowing fate, innocence &nbsp; Little calculation, or even thought A brief sight. Of nature Full of warning and advice occasional, subtle delight.\u00a0 Blindness &nbsp; The wonder drops From fear&#8230;.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1447,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-95375","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95375","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1447"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=95375"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95375\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":103499,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95375\/revisions\/103499"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=95375"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=95375"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=95375"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}