Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

 Bilbo should have tried this riddle on Gollum, since he had been underground for so long.  The answer is one of the most delicious things you will ever suck into your lungs.


At times a window bright and clear as glass,

At times a veil of mist drawn o’er the glades,

But always there;

Night be-jeweller of fern and grass,

Home of light and leaf and subtle shades

Beyond compare;

Cool and wet; a hint of sassafras;

A little thin upon the upward grades,

But sweet and fair;

Carrier over valley, peak, and pass

Of haunting melodies that stab like blades

From dulcimer or stream, erasing care:

Mountain air.



Remember: for more poetry like this, go to and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD



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