“Beauty crowds me till I die” ~ Emily Dickinson

the grassy walk in high summer

Should beauty crowd me till I die
you can be sure – I will not lie –
the ache of nature’s loveliness
is marred by age’s ugliness.
The glow of artistic masterpiece
contributes to our happiness
which our decay cannot outweigh,
but only the memory
of our youthful beauty
can take away the ghastliness
of growing old and dying.

for Creative Bloomings. Guest host Marie Elena Good gave us the quote to get us going.  

Unexpected guests:  blogger Crowing Crone and her husband Gerard came to tea (!) yesterday bearing squishy patisserie and cheerful stories of their travels around France.
unexpected visitors


About https://vivinfrance.wordpress.com

All poetry, prose and pictures posted here, except where otherwise stated, is my own, and may only be used elsewhere with my expressed permission. Please don't be inhibited from correcting my bloopers and making suggestions: Most of what I post here is instant, ill-considered and off-the-cuff, in serious need of editing.
This entry was posted in ekphrastic poetry, life writing, rhyming poetry, short poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

36 Responses to “Beauty crowds me till I die” ~ Emily Dickinson

  1. Colleen says:

    I hope beauty crowds me.


  2. peggygoetz says:

    Yes in general growing old is not pretty! I find myself thinking this more and more these days. But then the other choice–not making it to grow old–is not one I would prefer! thanks for visiting my blog.


  3. chalk petals says:

    Excellent piece.


  4. ayala says:

    A beautiful write…as long as we live with dignity. I watched my mom and my heart ached because she lost so much of who she was towards the end. I wish all of us health and dignity until the end of our days.


  5. love the traditional voice in your poetry today… wisdom replaces youth… more pleasant I think


  6. kelly says:

    I watch my parents just now, in this place, and it is a hard thing to watch. I think there is beauty in all of life, each stage, but yes, it is hard not to be able to do the things you want to do because of physical limitations. An intriguing write!


  7. Mary says:

    Well, I guess I will just accept the fact that certain things change as we age. But I don’t have to like it. I have found, however, it doesn’t help to dwell on these things….but keep walking on!


  8. Susan says:

    Shocked my socks off! But then, that wakes me up and has me pay attention. My grandmother– told us for 30 years up until her death at age 102– This is not a golden age; there is no golden age. “Ghastliness” is a powerful word. In itself, I do not find aging ghastly–not in line nor contrast–but some of the diseased and uneased ways to death are. Like you, I think, I would like beauty to crowd me right up to and through death.


  9. The ghastiliness of growing old and dying, I agrree there is so much suffering, but your lines permeate the wasteland of wanting and i love that, you strike in me as I think of the angst of loss, the best is the upbeat notion that you leave me asking for me, I feel you cut this piece short, it longs to linger, keep it coming Viv


  10. scotthastiepoet says:

    Lovely quote to use Viv, in some ways I think growing old reminds us how blessed we have been. I enjoyed you bitter sweet capture here… With Best Wishes Scott


  11. Gabriella says:

    I am sorry for your pain. Some friends and colleagues suffer from some horrible pains and I know their appreciation of life is subsequently different from mine. You have expressed this through a beautiful poem.


  12. I understand.. The beauty of it all, the memories and of nature all around.. How sad when it make us sad for loss of age. Visits from the world sounds so nice..


  13. Yes..the mirror is not the problem..it’s the forgetting, the aching and winging when the slightest turn is seemingly not expected. .. when your left hand absolutely won’t do what you tell it to and either rushes the notes or won’t play them at all … and I thought those Hanon exercises were going to make me stronger and a better musician..I’m struggling to stay even and not even what I could play sloppily 20 years ago…sigh, but dying beautiful would have meant missing many thing..like Paris, London, grandchildren, graduations, and reading folks like you. Vive La Viv!


    • Oh how I miss the music.I met my old piano when staying at my daughter’s last week and struggled through some easy-ish Beethoven that was on the rack. That reminded me why I gave her the piano last year. At least we can be exploring the world viicariously through the internet which our forbears didn’t have.


  14. I am tucking a wonderful awareness in my party-bag as I leave your beautiful piece here.

    You helped me focus how ongoing little shocks I encounter at my cranking joints and drooping points are truly some unexpected moments beginning to draw ghastly tones into my picture. Yet, I can see how the polarity between beauty and structured form’s loosening yields an odd nourishment, in that each seems to generate a fuller appreciation of the other – forming an unexpected balance in my evolution’s spiral.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. I love the lilting way this poem begins – very Dickinson-ish. Smiles…..And how lovely to have met with blogging friends……….


  16. brian miller says:

    ah its cool you got to visit with your blog friends…it has been a treat to meet as many as i have….
    age def changes us…wears us down eventually…which is a shame…because i do believe there is still beauty to be found even as we age…


  17. claudia says:

    i hear you…. was visiting my mom today and she has big problems with her knees and difficulties to walk – loads of stairs in that house but she doesn’t want to move away… it bothers me a lot.. and i would love if we all could stay healthy to our last day on this earth…


  18. A lovely poem, Viv.

    And a lovely surprise for you!


  19. I just read a reflection on the beauty of aging. We are so inundated by pop culture’s definition of beauty. Sad commentary. I have had a number of surgeries…would never consider something elective like plastic surgery. Beauty…hmmm. Comes with experience and wrinkles!

    Glad you had a nice visit, Viv.


  20. I am SO jealous. Everyone on the “other side of the pond” gets to have fun with Viv! Someday, I’ll get my weary bones over there.

    Viv, I found the prompt on Misky’s site and went by to say hello to all at Creative Bloomings. Then you popped up in my subscription feed (I have trouble with lots of scrolling, so I can’t “do” the C.Bloomings format), and what a lovely piece this is. You, like Marie Elena, started in iambic pentameter, but I know full well that one needn’t commit to an entire poem in the same form. Like the song, “It goes like it goes, like a river flows…” Doesn’t matter. This was surprisingly downbeat, the use of “ugly” and “Ghastly,” and yet, you’re telling it like it is. I love your openness and honesty.

    Many days I wake, see the face in the mirror (which doesn’t change, i don’t use makeup) and realize I am aging. Then my eyes fall upon my journal, and, like you, I am young again.



  21. it was a delightful visit, bubbly and all.


I love it when you leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s