Hello, friends, Once again, I am committing to writing a poem a day through the month of November as a fundraising benefit for the Center for New Americans. Madelyn and John Carney met over a poem. On their first date, while waiting for their double date, John tells Madelyn that he’s been whiling away time reading and memorizing poetry, and asks her if she’d like to hear some. Oh, yes, says Madelyn. John starts: “I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped; And shot, precipitated, Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears …” And on and on, saying “that’s just the half of it.” Madelyn replies, “Does it go on like this?”: “But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms. All which thy child’s mistake Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home: Rise, clasp My hand, and come!’ Halts by me that footfall: Is my gloom, after all, Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly? ‘Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest, I am He Whom thou seekest! Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.’” — Francis Thompson (1859–1907) John’s goose was cooked. They went on to recite poetry together for sixty five years, installing in each of their nine children a love of poetry. Please support my campaign by pledging any small amount, maybe a dollar a day, or even 30 cents! Thanks in advance for your pledge, and for your support of the Center for New Americans. Maureen