Stella Benson, a writer often overlooked in the annals of literature, has gifted us with 'The Secret Day', a poignant poem that distills the human desire for refuge from an uncertain future. In this carefully crafted verse, Benson creates a sense of urgency and longing, as if the very fabric of time is about to unravel.
With deliberate intent, she constructs 'To-day' β a sanctuary built by her own hands, an artificial haven designed to shield her from life's turmoil. The imagery is vivid: "the foxgloves and the gorse I planted on my way", "the thyme, the velvet thyme, grew up beneath my hands". This deliberate act of creation serves as a coping mechanism, a desperate attempt to impose order on a world that seems to be spinning out of control.
As we delve deeper into the poem, we find a sense of intimacy and vulnerability. Benson trusts her reader with an unflinching account of her innermost thoughts: "So I have built To-day, more precious than a dream; / And I have painted peace upon the sky above". The confessional tone is both powerful and haunting, leaving the reader to ponder the depths of her emotions.
However, some critics may view Benson's use of capitalization for her "Secret Friend" as a trite or childish gesture. This quibble aside, the poem's impact is undeniable. It masterfully employs repetition, with anaphora becoming a tool to emphasize the speaker's resolve: "So I have built To-day... / Lest joy come not again, lest peace return no more, / Lest comfort come no more". The effect is both mesmerizing and humbling.
Ultimately, 'The Secret Day' stands as a testament to Benson's skill as a poet. Her prose may be simple, but it conveys a profound depth of emotion, revealing the human need for solace in times of uncertainty. Despite its limitations, this poem has aged remarkably well, emerging from the shadows of literary history to claim its rightful place alongside other masterpieces.
In its quiet intensity, 'The Secret Day' becomes an elegy for a bygone era β one that speaks directly to our own anxieties and fears about the future. This is a poem that defies time, refusing to be confined by the constraints of space or genre. Its beauty lies in its audacity: it challenges us to confront our own vulnerabilities, to acknowledge the need for refuge in a world that can sometimes feel cruelly capricious.
Stella Benson's 'The Secret Day' is an unsung treasure, a work of quiet power and unassuming brilliance.
With deliberate intent, she constructs 'To-day' β a sanctuary built by her own hands, an artificial haven designed to shield her from life's turmoil. The imagery is vivid: "the foxgloves and the gorse I planted on my way", "the thyme, the velvet thyme, grew up beneath my hands". This deliberate act of creation serves as a coping mechanism, a desperate attempt to impose order on a world that seems to be spinning out of control.
As we delve deeper into the poem, we find a sense of intimacy and vulnerability. Benson trusts her reader with an unflinching account of her innermost thoughts: "So I have built To-day, more precious than a dream; / And I have painted peace upon the sky above". The confessional tone is both powerful and haunting, leaving the reader to ponder the depths of her emotions.
However, some critics may view Benson's use of capitalization for her "Secret Friend" as a trite or childish gesture. This quibble aside, the poem's impact is undeniable. It masterfully employs repetition, with anaphora becoming a tool to emphasize the speaker's resolve: "So I have built To-day... / Lest joy come not again, lest peace return no more, / Lest comfort come no more". The effect is both mesmerizing and humbling.
Ultimately, 'The Secret Day' stands as a testament to Benson's skill as a poet. Her prose may be simple, but it conveys a profound depth of emotion, revealing the human need for solace in times of uncertainty. Despite its limitations, this poem has aged remarkably well, emerging from the shadows of literary history to claim its rightful place alongside other masterpieces.
In its quiet intensity, 'The Secret Day' becomes an elegy for a bygone era β one that speaks directly to our own anxieties and fears about the future. This is a poem that defies time, refusing to be confined by the constraints of space or genre. Its beauty lies in its audacity: it challenges us to confront our own vulnerabilities, to acknowledge the need for refuge in a world that can sometimes feel cruelly capricious.
Stella Benson's 'The Secret Day' is an unsung treasure, a work of quiet power and unassuming brilliance.