Oh Wad a Gift...

Today is a national holiday in Scotland, the birthday of poet Robert Burns. I think the Scots think of Burns as much like the Russians regard Pushkin. He is in a category all to himself. I must admit that the diehard attachment to figures like Burns is hard to understand. Here in the United States we have our own heroes to be sure, but we enjoy seeing them dragged through the mud much too often. I wonder who would be the closest to a national poet in this country? Walt Whitman? e e cummings? Theodor Geisel? For those of you who don't recognize the last name, you might recall his nom de plume, Dr. Seuss. My sister, an early grade educator, always regarded him as a lesser poet, despite the ubiquitous nature of his children's books ("The Cat in the Hat," "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" or "Green Eggs and Ham" to mention just a few). She disliked the made up names he employed in his poems. She thought it was more important to teach the children reality rather than have them dwell in the twilight of their imaginations. I, of course, disagreed. I believe that using their imaginations makes them better prepared to deal with the reality of the grown-up world. Ah, well, that's perhaps why I enjoy writing poetry specifically intended for children. I know it won't be lost on them and there's very little they will object to. Perhaps I will share some of them in a future post. In the meantime, have a wonderful weekend. To my Jewish friends, Shabbat Shalom. And to all of the rest of us, Happy Mardi Gras!