The Quatrains

By FRANK WHITE

In the Quatrains Frank takes us on a poetic journey that transcends time and speaks into the heart of the human experience. He blends eloquence and simplicity that engages the readers to read from their hearts, you experience the depth and breadth of human emotions, a transcendent philosophy as you are pulled into each poetic experience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: FRANK WHITE
• Release date: Aug 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393373339

Book preview

Introduction

I am not writing this introduction, as a writer so please don’t look for that. I am rather having a conversation with you, having a chat, taking a few minutes to tell a story of how my adventure with poetry began and how some of what I have written has found its way onto the pages of this book. As always seems to be the case we find ourselves beginning with a story, I find myself in that same space so let me begin there.... I’ll step back in time to when I was around nine years old and, quite by accident, luck, happenstance or divine intervention found an old leather bound book that had apparently been thrown away. There it was, lying on the ground near a trash can, this dark green leather embossed book with gold edged pages. It was just lying there; lying there by the trash can in the alley that I was cutting through on my way home. Cutting through the alleys was pretty normal at that time in my youth; it was actually an adventure, especially for us young boys. An adventure, an exploration into a magical place of found treasures. I never knew what epic treasure I might find along these narrow travel ways behind and between the rows of houses, weaving through and magically binding this older Columbus Ohio neighborhood together. To us kids, it was not just a shortcut home; it was a great adventure, a treasure hunt. And so it was that my adventure that day brought me this wondrous treasure, that late summer afternoon.

I had never seen such a leather bound book before, such a grand embossed leather bound book with gold edged pages. I didn’t bother to look at what was written on the pages, it didn’t really matter to me. I picked it up and just looked at it; I was simply mesmerized by its look. I tucked it under my arm and continued my journey home. Further, along the alley I found a medium sized seashell, maybe four inches or so long, and yes, I instantly held it up to my ear to hear the ocean. I would call it an epic day for sure. I had found two amazing treasures in one trip through the alley. Little did I know the impact of that day and how it would go on to affect my life.

Later that night I was upstairs in my bedroom kind of getting ready for bed and kind of messing around and I pulled out my treasure find of the day, the green leather bound book. I looked it over, ran my hands across the embossed cover and wondered how it had been made and where it was from. I was so happy just looking at it.

After a few minutes of inspecting every inch of the cover and feeling each and every embossed letter where it said Sonnets from the Portuguese, I opened it up.

I didn’t know what a sonnet was or what Portuguese meant as it turned out it simply didn’t matter. I began to read;

How do I love thee, let me count the ways

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach...

How could someone write something like this? How could they say something so unusual, so different from what I was used to hearing, and so beautiful? This was my introduction to Elizabeth Barret Browning and more importantly to poetry. I don’t know how many times I read that book over the next several months, but as with the things of youth, some new prize took its place and it was relegated to a dusty spot beneath my old metal framed saggy springed feather bed. Some time passed and early pains of life intruded causing me, a young boy, to begin to question. When you’re nine or ten you’re not fully aware that your father has abandoned you or why mom’s new husband is never sober and why loneliness feels so powerful. You go from questions to thoughts to more questions to at the age of twelve digging out an old green leather bound treasure, and finding on its pages something that spoke to you, that resonated with new emerging emotions and feelings. I began to find myself at the library seeking out other books and found this amazing wonderland of writers and poetry. I had stumbled upon new friends who spoke to me and talked with me, who seemed to understand me and connect feelings, emotions, pain and desire in profoundly touching ways. They spoke to something deep inside me in verbal