Some things come by lightning flashes.

"Some things dawn on you slowly. Some things come by lightning flashes."
-L.M. Montgomery
The Blue Castle

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Created October 19, 2022. Last updated April 19, 2024.
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In Wheaten Meadows by L.M. Montgomery

In July 1908, L.M. Montgomery published the poem "In Wheaten Meadows" in The Farm Journal, a journal devoted to the farm, orchard, garden, poultry and household economy. The journal's motto was "Practical not Fancy Farming."

Here is a digitized image of the poem scanned from microfilm available at Archive.org:



Here is the full text of the poem:

IN WHEATEN MEADOWS
BY L. M. MONTGOMERY

There are winds that riot o’er meadows still,
Over slopes of harvest gold,
From the fir-set rim of an orient hill,
With a vibrant melody athrill,
And a music all untold.

There are shadows and ripples, uncharted

and fleet,

Where the fretted tassels sway;
The call of the bluebird is lyric-sweet,
And the crimson poppies among the wheat
Look up to the mellow day.

Widely the ministrant meadows lie,
Lavish of rapture and rest;
White are the clouds in the slumberous sky,
And elfin the voices that wander by
The grass-hid field-lark’s nest.

Perhaps o’er the shadowy hills afar,
Unresting souls may throng,
And there may tumult and strife and jar
And ignoble discord and struggle mar
Earth’s full-voiced, matchless song.

But here, where the silken poppies burn,
And the air is pure and sweet,
We may hark to the rhythm for which we yearn,
And many an ancient lesson learn
In the meadows among the wheat.


Reference:
Montgomery, L.M. (1908, July). In Wheaten Meadows. The Farm Journal. 32(7): 274. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/sim_farm-journal_1908-07_32_7/page/n1/mode/2up

Created October 18, 2022.
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My Pictures by L.M. Montgomery

In May 1906, L.M. Montgomery published the poem "My Pictures" in The Farm Journal, a journal devoted to the farm, orchard, garden, poultry and household economy. The journal's motto was "Practical not Fancy Farming."

Here is a digitized image of the poem scanned from microfilm available at Archive.org:


Here is the full text of the poem:

MY PICTURES

My pictures? Why, yes; I will show them with gladness—
Their number is small, but each one is a gem;
And in shadow or sunshine they charm away sadness,
The world is forgotten while gazing at them.

They were painted, each one, by the hand of a master
Whose skill is unquestioned, whose brush is most true,
Whose colors are brighter, whose canvasses vaster
Than any, my friend, that are cherished by you.

See! There is a valley that’s dappled with shadow
And threaded with sunshine, in bosk and in dell;
Or here, if you like, is a green stretch of meadow
A-twinkle with daisies where buttercups dwell,

Here’s a garden of blossom, an orchard bloom-whitened,
And others beyond that I need not to name,
All seen at a glance when the summer has brightened
The scenes that I view from my own window frame.

L. M. MONTGOMERY


Reference:
Montgomery, L.M. (1906, May). My Pictures. The Farm Journal. 30(5): 161. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/sim_farm-journal_1906-05_30_5/mode/2up

Created October 17, 2022.
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When Mother Tucked Us In by L.M. Montgomery

In January 1907, L.M. Montgomery published the poem "When Mother Tucked Us In" in The Farm Journal, a journal devoted to the farm, orchard, garden, poultry and household economy. The journal's motto was "Practical not Fancy Farming."

Here is a digitized image of the poem scanned from microfilm available at Archive.org:


Here is the full text of the poem:

WHEN MOTHER TUCKED US IN
BY L. M. MONTGOMERY

The sweetest memory of all,

Which time from us can never win,

Comes when the dusking shadows fall

And winds their nightly rune begin,—

The memory of those olden eves

When mother tucked us in.

Tired from our play, and glad to rest

When twilight brought its calm-eyed star,

And in its hush the yellow moon

Rose over purple hills afar

To shine on fields whose dewy peace

No dream of strife might mar.

And yet again we hear the croon

Of winds around the old low eaves

Of the brown house where we were born,

And in the murmuring poplar leaves,—

How sweet and subtle seems again

The spell remembrance weaves!

Upon us fell the gracious boon

Of childhood’s rest; we knew no care,

We only felt a gentle hand

Upon the tangles of our hair,

We only heard in that dim room

A mother’s tender prayer.

And now we walk the busy world

With all its maze of toil and sin,

But still a rescuing talisman

We bear our secret hearts within,—

The memory of those sacred hours

When mother tucked us in.

Reference:
Montgomery, L.M. (1907, January). When Mother Tucked Us In. The Farm Journal. 31(1): 18. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/sim_farm-journal_1907-01_31_1/page/18/mode/2up

Created October 16, 2022.
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Dawn by L.M. Montgomery

In April 1911, L.M. Montgomery published the poem "Dawn" in The Farm Journal, a journal devoted to the farm, orchard, garden, poultry and household economy. The journal's motto was "Practical not Fancy Farming."

Here is a digitized image of the poem scanned from microfilm available at Archive.org:


Here is the full text of the poem:

DAWN
BY L. M. MONTGOMERY

There’s a silken fringe of light
On the ashen skirts of night,
And a fire-shot ruby rim
On the eastern hilltops dim,

And a rare,

Untainted air

Sweet from slopes all crystal dewed,
And many a clover solitude
Where night benedictions brood

At the dawn.

Hark! a burst of winged song
Floats the listening air along—
All the blithesome hush is stirred
By the rapture of a bird!

And the sky

Is clear and high

Over dells astar with flowers
Still begemmed with dewy showers,
Dreaming of the after hours

At the dawn.

Reference:
Montgomery, L.M. (1911, April). My Queen. The Farm Journal. 35(4): 244. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/sim_farm-journal_1911-04_35_4/page/244/mode/2up

Created October 15, 2022.
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She was filled with youth's joy in mere existence.

"She was filled with youth's joy in mere existence."
-L.M. Montgomery
Emily's Quest

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Photograph by World of Anne Shirley.

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Created October 13, 2022. Last updated April 19, 2024.
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My Queen by L.M. Montgomery

In March 1907, L.M. Montgomery published the poem "My Queen" in The Farm Journal, a journal devoted to the farm, orchard, garden, poultry and household economy. The journal's motto was "Practical not Fancy Farming."

Here is a digitized image of the poem scanned from microfilm available at Archive.org:


Here is the full text of the poem:

MY QUEEN
BY L. M. MONTGOMERY

She rules a kingdom small and fair,
Her throne is a worn rocking-chair.
Most gracious and belov'd is she,
With all her subjects at her knee,
And never could a monarch view
Subjects more loyal and more true.

My little queen with holy eyes,
Her rule is tender, firm and wise:
Content and happiness are found
Within her tiny realm's bound,
And no gemmed circlet can compare
With her bright crown of sunny hair.

My little queen with gentle heart,
Within my life she reigns apart;
To make her earthly kingdom dear
And bring the breath of heaven near,
With wifely faith and mother care,
My lady of the rocking-chair.


Reference:
Montgomery, L.M. (1907, March). My Queen. The Farm Journal. 31(3): 166. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/sim_farm-journal_1907-03_31_3/page/166/mode/2up

Created October 13, 2022.
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Milking Time by L.M. Montgomery

In May 1902, L.M. Montgomery published the poem "Milking Time" in The Farm Journal, a journal devoted to the farm, orchard, garden, poultry and household economy. The journal's motto was "Practical not Fancy Farming."

Here is a digitized image of the poem scanned from microfilm available at Archive.org:



Here is the full text of the poem:

MILKING TIME
BY L. M. MONTGOMERY

Dusking fields that are damp with dew,
Skies of crocus and rose and blue,
After-lights on the far hill rim,
Tremulous twilight in valleys dim,
Brooks atune with a limpid chime—
Down at the bars it is milking time.

Pale-hued clovers with creamy crowns,
Buttercups in their golden gowns,
Wind-blown pines at the pasture bars,
Pearl-white glimmer of early stars,
Breezes lilting a wordless rhyme—
Down in the fields it is milking time.

Brown-eyed lassie and sturdy lad,
Laughter and mirth of hearts made glad,
Loitering couples and lagging feet—
Never an hour of the day so sweet!
Youth and love in the summer's prime
Find each other at milking time.


Reference:
Montgomery, L.M. (1902, May). Milking Time. The Farm Journal. 26(5): 161. Retrieved from: https://archive.org/details/sim_farm-journal_1902-05_26_5/mode/2up

Created October 12, 2022.
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