Wednesday is loved by almost everyone. Those dreadful first days of the week have passed and it’s time to prepare for the upcoming weekend. Many poets touched the subject of Wednesday in their poems. In this article, there are a few examples of fine poetry about or related to Wednesday.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Let’s start off with a poem written by Edna St. Vincent Millay. It’s quite a confusion, especially when you take a look at the title. This isn’t a Wednesday-poem, no it’s on Thursday. Or is it?
To analyse this poem, we must take a look at the personal life of this poetess. She was a strong feminist and believed in equality. She also believed that she wasn’t attracted to just men or women. It’s known that she had affairs with both sexes. That explains a lot when it comes to this poem. She is in love with a man on Wednesday, but the day after she isn’t. In a period of 24 hours, she changed her mind. Is that strange? Can love die so sudden? Not when you take into consideration that she could fall in love with both sexes.
In her time, this poem would grow out to be an important one as for the liberation of women. This poem is more because experts believe that in this 24 hours something so awful might have occurred that she lost the ability to love this man. Why a man instead of a woman? In the time that St. Vincent Millay lived, there were no good laws to protect women against abuse or rape. That is why it’s most likely that she experienced something that made her love die overnight. The last stanza is very interesting because she asks herself what it was to her, that she loved the other one on Wednesday.
|AND if I loved you Wednesday,
Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday
So much is true.And why you come complaining
Is more than I can see.I loved you Wednesday,yesbut what
Is that to me?
|Edna St. Vincent Millay|
It has been a while since we published work of this American poetess. We will make it up to you, with two poems that touch the subject of Wednesday.
I never felt at Home — Below
|I never felt at Home — Below —
And in the Handsome Skies
I shall not feel at Home — I know —
I don’t like Paradise —
Because it’s Sunday — all the time —
And Recess — never comes —
And Eden’ll be so lonesome
Bright Wednesday Afternoons —
If God could make a visit —
Or ever took a Nap —
So not to see us — but they say
Himself — a Telescope
Perennial beholds us —
Myself would run away
From Him — and Holy Ghost — and All —
But there’s the “Judgement Day”!
Yes, Wednesday plays a small role in this poem. But a good one. A recollection of those Wednesday afternoons of the past. The poetess takes the stand to tell us what she doesn’t like. She never felt at home, she can’t find herself in the beautiful skies that she sees. Religion played an important role in her life. In some poems, she praises her religious beliefs, but not in this poem.
Would it be better when she is dead? She hopes to go to the Garden of Eden but seems to fear this place. There is no recess and there is always this loneliness. Unless God takes a nap and steps away from his tasks.
This poem reads as if it was written by a child. A child who doesn’t really seem to fit in. She wants all kinds of things but is never allowed to. The conclusion is that she will never feel at home, no matter where she is.
Dew — is the Freshet in the Grass —
|Dew — is the Freshet in the Grass —
‘Tis many a tiny Mill
Turns unperceived beneath our feet
And Artisan lies still —
We spy the Forests and the Hills
The Tents to Nature’s Show
Mistake the Outside for the in
And mention what we saw.
Could Commentators on the Sign
Of Nature’s Caravan
Obtain “Admission” as a Child
Some Wednesday Afternoon.
Ok, pay attention now. The poem starts with a line that can be somewhat confusing. Is Dickinson discussing a freshness or something else? Dew, according to Dickinson, is the water that runs through the grass. So, no, she isn’t talking about fresh or freshness of this grass.
Again, Dickinson calls on Wednesday in her poem. In her last stanza, she talks about these Wednesday Afternoons as if she describes something magically. Just like the dew in the grass. A magnificent poem, that shows her love for Mother Nature.
The Mother Goose Rhymes
It is believed, but not certain, that the rhymes we know as The Mother Goose Rhymes, were sprouted of the talents of Elizabeth Foster Goose or Mary Goose. She was a widow of Isaac Goose and started writing poetry intended for children. Some say, that this American Mother Goose didn’t even exist. That the original Mother was a French woman. The exact date when the poems were written remains uncertain. Research indicates that these rhymes go back as far as the seventeenth century, but may well be older than that period.
|How many days has my baby to play?
Saturday, Sunday, Monday,
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,
Saturday, Sunday, Monday.
This is a typical example of a poem that teaches children something. In this case, it’s more a verse that is supposed to be sung or chanted. It teaches young children the different days of the week, including Wednesday.
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
This is the end
Of Solomon Grundy.
Who was this Solomon Grundy? In case you’re doubting, it’s no the fictional character of DC Comics. The first publication of this poem was done by James Orchard Halliwell in 1842. Based what the literary experts had to say about this poem, we can conclude that Solomon Grundy was not a real person. It was, in fact, a salad dish. This makes the poem somewhat strange. The poem reads as if it was about a real person. In this poem, this Solomon is something that was made human. It was a conundrum for children, probably to learn the days of the week. It also shows that our life consists of patterns. The week itself can be a metaphor for our whole life.
If this poem was first published by James Orchard Halliwell, how come it’s related to Mother Goose? Well, it’s simple: Halliwell collected different verses for children and combined them into a poetry collection that is nowadays still read.