This is a subject very close to my heart. Growing up I went to a school that had Poetry as a separate subject. I don’t know of any schools who teach poetry as a separate subject. But our Founder was very passionate about it and most of us couldn’t comprehend what good it would do learning about poetry so much.

These days, schools don’t even seem to teach poetry any more . At least my daughters school doesn’t. The focus is on English, Math and Science, where English is mostly grammar and reading abridged versions of books. Granted she’s only in the 5th Grade but still.

I can’t imagine my life without Poetry. I don’t write much anymore but I do read. Even today, many of the blogs I follow are poetry blogs.

I feel learning to appreciate poetry has given me something very important. It’s given me an appreciation of life and people.

Most poems are a deep reflection of a person. Some poems are a way of making sense of the world. Whatever the subject matter, reading and writing poetry can help you understand emotions and foster creativity.

These are not just my personal opinions. While researching this topic, I came across an interesting article in the Harvard Business Review, which supports the advantages of reading and writing poetry for business leaders. The article is backed by research and the conclusion is that Poetry has an important function in our everyday lives and building professionals.

So, anyone who’s second guessing whether poetry should be part of the curriculum, has their answer right there…

I’m never going to stop loving poetry and I’m going to make sure that my daughter learns to appreciate it as well. Just because some people think it’s not important, doesn’t mean that she should go through life without this pleasure.

And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
         Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
 
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
         Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
~ Excerpt from “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes
for the love of poetry
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