Page 45 of Persuading Penny
I smiled as we slowly walked down the street. “I have to admit, it’s really not the sort of thing I’m accustomed to doing. Even in these modern times, it’s not something I’m particularly comfortable with.”
“Then I appreciate the gesture all the more. I have a feeling tonight is going to be a special evening.”
“Well, I did think that we’d rushed through the tour of the town, and I’d shown you nothing of the nightlife here. I thought a special cultural event would be a pleasant initiation to Bath.”
We reached the small coffee house where several well-liked readers, were preparing to read. Though the house was quite full, we found a table for six with two empty chairs and joined the foursome already seated.
Quiet conversations filled the air, some patrons throwing out their favorite lines from the poets that were to be read that night.
As the organizer of the evening stood to address the crowd, the room fell silent without needing a request to do so.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight. My name is Nathan Charles, your host for this evening. This is our sixth poetry reading this year and we’re pleased to see that the crowd keeps getting bigger and bigger. How pleasing to the heart it is to see so many lovers of poetry.”
The crowd nodded in agreement and a few lightly applauded themselves.
“Tonight, the theme is our very own planet Earth; Mother Earth, Mother Nature, third rock, big blue marble...call it what you will. Modernity has been rough on Mother Earth, and yet this planet consistently shows us its resiliency...but for how long? We tend to think that love of the earth is a recent concern with all the fears we have regarding the planet’s health. But back in the days of Dickinson, Blake, Frost, Keats and so many more, we can see how that love of nature was on full display. All the riches this planet has to offer us. All the riches we choose to ignore or underappreciate. All the riches that are right there under our noses. And we humans, eternally dissatisfied with what we have and in search of something new, turn to find something more...” His eyes grew wide as he shot his hands out for emphasis.“...dazzling.”
Nathan looked at the crowd, his eyes darting from one well-dressed patron to the other. “Dazzle. Sparkle. Shine.” He pointed at one then another. “We do like our new shiny things, don’t we. And our love of those new shiny things is suffocating us. Perhaps our poems tonight will bring us a new appreciation for all that Mother Earth has to offer in its simplest form. Perhaps we can learn to appreciate nature without destroying it.”
Steve leaned closer to me. “If he continues on this moral high ground, he might turn off a few patrons. People don’t like being told what they should or shouldn’t do.”
I nodded though I was in full agreement with Nathan.
“We have, tonight, three eloquent reciters: Betsy Collins, Benjamin Carling and...” He paused. “We have a last-minute addition to our program, a very surprise guest reader. I do hope you will enjoy them all.” Prompting the audience to applaud by doing so himself, he bowed and backed away.
Without a book or notes, a woman at a nearby table stood and meandered silently around the tables for a few moments, her head bowed. Then, she spoke softly yet clearly audible;
The Tyger by William Blake
Tyger, Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
She finally raised her head and spoke louder her voice filling with more emotion as the poem she recited grew more and more passionate;
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
As she went on, I leaned closer to Steve. “This is one of my favorites, especially this upcoming verse.”
He smiled and nodded, listening to the reader intently.
What the hammer? What the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
