Albert Edmund Trombly - 5 Short Poems (1916-1922)
Forgotten Poems #118 || Reissue #22
—: The Trees :— I Through the afternoon the breeze Looses leafy tongues of trees. Nodding heads accentuate What the leaves articulate. Twilight comes; the windless air Stills the gossip stirring there. In the night perhaps they sleep; But the roots of trees lie deep. II Poets sing their shade and fruits Never guessing at their roots. Still, they too have timid souls Underneath their rugged boles, Masters of an occult land We could better understand. Poets would be more profound If their roots took underground.
—: April :— The blossoms of the cherry fall And flutter to the garden-wall; The frogs in unison blow and blow The shrill notes of a piccolo; The moon in the pool to the moon in the sky Trembles and looks up wistfully.
—: The Chickadee :— Sing, little fellow, Chick-a-dee-dee! Birches are yellow Sing, little fellow! Sing us thy mellow, Gay-hearted glee; Sing, little fellow, Chick-a-dee-dee!
—: Vignette :— April, you come Laughing at them who sorrow and fret, Smelling of lilac and violet.
—: Had I Been Monk :— Had I been monk and you a nun, Under a thirteenth century sun, Although your convent had been far From mine, as convents sometimes are, I would have known that you were there, And you of me had been aware; And I'd have stolen out at night, When the holy monks and nuns recite Their beads, and gone with a hot foot-fall Up to your convent and scaled the wall, And panting crept to your very cell, And wooed you with the fire of hell!
Albert Edmund Trombly was; “Born in Chazy, New York. Five years later his family removed to Worcester, Massachusetts, and there was educated. He was graduated from the Worcester State Normal School in 1910. In 1913 he took his A.B. at Harvard , and since then has been instructor of Romance languages in the University of Pennsylvania. At the latter university he received an M.A. degree in 1915.” (The Newark Anniversary Poems, 1917) “On the faculty of the University of Texas, and has written a monograph on Rossetti.” (The Poet's Pack, 1921) In the 1920s, “a professor of Romance languages at the University of Missouri.” (Southwest Review, 1925)
—: Fragments for Albert Trobly :— By Dick Whyte Poems are trees if you please Words are sticks broken in bits Put back together letter by letter Printed on leaves of papery bees Poems are trees if you please
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The cadence Albert Edmund Trombly relies on is the hook that snags many early readers of poetry, who are then reeled in to the world of word play.
Oh the convent poem is quite something...I didn't know about this poet or this poem..so thank you for introducing them!