Poetry and Coincidence

I forgot to add something to my last posting. While taking a virtual tour along Bunhill Row outside of Bunhill Fields Cemetery, I recalled that Milton himself lived along Bunhill Row. And just around the coner, now in the midst of the Barbican Housing estate, is the the Church of St. Giles (without Cripplegate)where the great poet is buried. This, one of the oldest churches in London, was my grandfather's parish church and the place where my parents were married in 1963. Now the funny coincidence is that one of Milton's other favored homes was a cottage in the small town of Chalfont St. Giles where he spent time trying to escape the plague. And this is the town where I was born. Before I knew these facts I became interested in the remarkable poetry of Milton. 

Poetic Relief

By way of relief from my last posting and from the general state of things which has been less than ideal, I return to the world of poetry. And let's face it, we could all use a little (or a lot) more poetry in our lives. 

My dad was born in tenement buildings in Errol Street in central London. The buildings were sponsored by George Peabody, a philanthropist who had buildings constructed all over London for the working poor. The other day I was using Google street view and I could look at the actual building where my dad was born. And as I was virtually driving around my dad's neighbourhood in London, I went by Bunhill Fields grave yard which you can just see a small portion of on Google. Then it occurred to me that this is the site where William Blake is buried. It is not known for certain the location of his grave but there is a marker that was put in later to honor this great poet. And a perfect place to see it is one of my favorite web sites called Poet's Graves. http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/index.html This is a great site that I recommend

because you can find all sorts of interesting facts and photos. It seems morbid at first 

thought but it really is kind of comforting to see that there are others out there who

also honor the great voices of poetic language. Its nice to know one is not entirely alone

in a rather harsh world. Take a quick look at the grave of your favorite poet and

remember the great power of language and love.

Hail to thee, blithe spirit!

Bird thou never wert -

That from heaven or near it

Pourest thy full heart

In profuse strains of unpremeditated art

-Shelley