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Hello Dear Poets–

I’m Linda Lee Lyberg from Mesa, AZ and winter has arrived; well, at least our version here in the desert! That means cooler temperatures, and evenings spent with a warm blanket sitting by our outdoor firepit- it’s a wonderful time of year.

Today is Monday and that means it’s time for dVerse’s own creation- the Quadrille. For those of you new to dVerse, the quadrille is a 44 word poem exactly, excluding the title. The word today is Inglenook.

For those of you not familiar with the word, here is a definition:
INGLENOOK (noun,English)- A close intimate corner by a fireplace where people gather for warmth; from ingle, a hearth (Scots)

Source: OtherWORDly words both strange and lovely from around the world

Who Hath A Book

by Wilbur D. Nesbit

Who hath a book
Hath friends at hand,
And gold and gear
At his command;
And rich estates,
If he but look,
Are held by him
Who hath a book.

Who hath a book
Hath but to read
And he may be
A king, indeed.
His kingdom is
His inglenook-
All this is his
Who hath a book.

From Wikipedia:

The inglenook originated as a partially enclosed hearth area, appended to a larger room. The hearth was used for cooking, and its enclosing alcove became a natural place for people seeking warmth to gather. With changes in building design, kitchens became separate rooms, while inglenooks were retained in the living space as intimate warming places, subsidiary spaces within larger rooms.[1]

Inglenooks were prominent features of shingle style architecture and characteristic of Arts and Crafts architecture but began to disappear with the advent of central heating.[1][2]Prominent American architects who employed the feature included Greene and Greene, Henry Hobson Richardson, and Frank Lloyd Wright. British architect Richard Norman Shawsignificantly influenced Richardson.[3]

In A Bath Teashop by John Betjeman

“Let us not speak, for the love we bear one another—

Let us hold hands and look.”

She such a very ordinary little woman;

He such a thumping crook;

But both, for a moment, little lower than the angels

In the teashop’s ingle-nook.

From the New Yorker:

Inglenook

By Mary Ruefle

I live in the museum of

everyday life,

where the thimble is hidden

anew every week and often

takes five days to find.

Once it was simply lying

(laying?) on the floor

and I missed it,

looking inside my mouth.

A grease fire in the inglenook!

That took a lot of soda!

Free admission, but guests

are required to face-wash

before entering and

tooth-clean before leaving.

Open daily, the doorknobs

are covered with curated

fingerprints, and pass

on the latest news.

Here’s how to join in:

  • Write a quadrille as described above. Post it on your blog or website.
  • Enter your name and direct link to your poem in Mr. Linky.
  • Remember to check the box re: privacy policy.
  • Follow the links to other poets. Read and comment. Come back to read more as the prompt is open all week.
  • Link back to dVerse so others can find us too.
  • Drop in to say hello in our discussion below.
  • Have fun!