WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS
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This painting appeared first in The Seven Ages of Childhood, 1909
by American author of verse and parodies
Carolyn Wells, 1862 - 1942
& American illustrator of magazines and children's books
Jessie Willcox Smith, 1863 - 1935
(later reprinted as a Vintage Green Tiger Press Postcard)
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My fate might not have been the dreamer's,
No time for prose and all for froth,
If the ware had not been old blue willow
From which I supped my daily broth!
A child, I lived the quaint tradition,
I was the Chinese maid, Kong Shee,
Flitting the bridge with Chang, the lover,
From the convent house by the willow tree.
I drained my mug at every serving
To rid it of its milky sea
And bring to light a gull still sailing
Above the swaying willow tree!
A whimsy thought but one for toying,
For who has power to estimate
The end of a young poetic fancy
When nurtured from a willow plate?
by Mildred D. Shacklett
Shacklett's poem can be found in the well - loved
anthology from my formative years:
The American Album of Poetry
compiled by American radio personality
Ted Malone, 1908 - 1989
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Malone's book, filled with sentimental selections and companionable commentary, nurtured my poetic fancy as did the traditional Blue Willow bread and butter plates upon which my grandmother served us many a childhood breakfast of "dippy eggs and toast soldiers." When I got married, I also grew enamored of Wedgwood's pastel rendition of the pattern called "Chinese Legend," that Gerry and I discovered on one of our trips to England in the early 90s:
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At the suggestion of my friend Ann de Forest, I recently read Rebecca Solnit's extended essay, A Field Guide to Getting Lost, which carries a recurring theme of "The Blue of Distance." I guess it should not have come as a surprise to find Blue Willow amongst the ubiquitous images of blueness!
I was touched by the truth and beauty of Solnit's insight into our ageless attraction to "that blue - and - white stuff whose most familiar imagery is also a small tale of tragedy, the blue willow pattern of birds, trees, water, and separated lovers, like the items of a song you could drink from, teacups that would always be a cup of sorrow" (125).
Some Nice Books for Children & Collectors
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"His heart leapt at the sight, for just above the foot bridge that led to his daughter's pavilion, there appeared a most wondrous rainbow of every color, and while the villagers watched, and while the merchant watched, two swallows fluttered above the willow tree and kissed, their wings making the sound of wind in bamboo."
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SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Wednesday, March 28th
Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT ~ Willow Willow Willow
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com
Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com
When I saw the title of the post on Facebook, I instantly wondered if you'd read Blue Willow too. Such poverty...such a good book. (I just KNEW you'd include it!)
ReplyDeletehttps://www.orwelltoday.com/readerwillowdishes6.shtml
ReplyDelete1. Two Birds Flying High
ReplyDeleteTwo birds flying high
a little ship sailing by
a Chinese castle here it stands
facing many, many lands
a little bridge with three men on
a willow tree, that ends my song
2. Two Pigeons Flying High
Two pigeons flying high
Chinese vessel sailing by
Weeping Willow hanging or
Bridge with three men if not four
Chinese Temple here it stands
Seems to cover all the land
Apple tree with apples on
A pretty fence to end my song
3. There Were Two Birds A Flying High
There were two birds a flying high
A China ship a passing by
A China house see there it stands
As fine as any in the land
And if you look a little closer
You will see three men if not four
An apple tree with apples on
And a bridge beneath the sun
4. Far Away Within the East
Far away within the East,
A monarch kept his state.
And near him, just across the bridge,
There lived a prince (see plate).
The monarch had a daughter fair.
The prince in love was he.
"No, no, good man," the monarch said,
"My daughter stays with me."
Across the bridge the lovers fled.
The king pursued irate.
They hied them to a little boat,
And sailed away (see plate).
Alas the stormy winds did blow
As cruel as cruel could be.
They dashed the boat upon the rocks,
and drowned them in the sea.
But changed to bird by fairies kind
Their spirits rose elate.
And even now about the king
They hover still (see plate).