I’m going to just come right out and say that I don’t know much about poetry. I’ve never really read it, although I think I would like it (in small doses). One of my sisters writes poetry on occasion and I love it so much when she does that she compiled a book of her original works for me.But if you asked me if I liked Robert Frost or Emily Dickinson I wouldn’t be able to tell you.
I do like books that use beautiful words and thoughts, though, so here’s a list of books that enjoy and consider poetry (even though I doubt they are classified as such).
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek – by Annie Dillard
This was assigned reading in second year college English and I adored it (I think I was the only one, though!). I know that this was Dillard’s personal account of year (or maybe more, I can’t remember) of solitary life out in the middle of nowhere, but she wrote such beautiful, detailed accounts of the most ordinary things that it felt like poetry, even if it was more of a memoir. I know I could never write about a bug or plant with such wonder and enthusiasm, but I loved her descriptions so much that I kept the book after the class ended and still pick it up occasionally on a quiet afternoon.
One Thousand Gifts – by Ann Voskamp
I’ve written a little about this one before, back when I first read it. This book is all about seeing the beautiful in the ordinary, being thankful for everything (good and bad) in our lives, and intentionally recording the things that make us happy. I adored most of this book, although the end lost me a little. I love the premise of this book, but I especially enjoyed the description and lyrical flow of her words. It’s just one of those books that make my soul smile.
Gift from the Sea – by Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Much like One Thousand Gifts, it was the lyrical flow of this book that really reached me. Anne writes with clarity and beauty about contentment and tranquility, finding balance and peace as women, and time-shifting relationships and priorities. It’s a lovely, timeless book that applies to women today as much as it did when it was written (1955). I did not agree with everything she wrote, but several passages spoke to me so deeply that I recorded them in my journal to remind me of her words.
I just realized that every one of these authors names is Ann (or a variation, anyway). How odd is that?!
I’ll be back tomorrow with something totally different. 🙂
You can see the rest of the series here.