Who is Hilda Conkling

Hilda Conkling (1910–1986) was an American poet. She was the daughter of Grace Hazard Conkling, a poet in her own right and Assistant Professor of English at Smith College, Northampton, Massachusetts. Hilda was born in New York state. Her father died when she was four years old, and she had one sister, Elsa, two years her senior.

Hilda is notable for having composed most of her poetry as a young child, between the ages of four and fourteen years old. She never wrote them down herself; instead, they came out in conversation with her mother, who would write down Hilda's words either in the moment, or from memory later. If the latter, she would read the lines back to Hilda, who would then correct any deviation from her original words. As Hilda grew up, her mother stopped recording ...
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Hilda Conkling Poems

  • Yellow Summer-throat
    Yellow summer-throat sat singing
    In a bending spray of willow tree.
    Thin fine green-y lines on his throat,
    The ruffled outside of his throat,...
  • Weather
    Weather is the answer
    When I can't go out into flowery places;
    Weather is my wonder
    About the kind of morning...
  • Water
    The world turns softly
    Not to spill its lakes and rivers.
    The water is held in its arms
    And the sky is held in the water....
  • Venice Bridge
    For a painting


    Away back in an old city...
  • Velvets
    By a Bed of Pansies


    This pansy has a thinking face...
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Top 10 most used topics by Hilda Conkling

Blue 26 Sky 26 Tree 22 Song 21 White 21 Away 20 Wind 20 Water 20 Sea 18 Light 17


Hilda Conkling Quotes

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Comments about Hilda Conkling

Platospupil: the world turns softly not to spill its lakes and rivers. –hilda conkling, american poet (1910–86)
Mbharrington501: the world turns softly not to spill its lakes and rivers. –hilda conkling, american poet (1910–86
Kevblue777: the world turns softly not to spill its lakes and rivers. –hilda conkling, american poet (1910–86)
Lizzie_lou_5: year of nefelibata (day 270): at evening when i go to bed i see the stars shine overhead; they are the little daisies white that dot the meadow of the night.//daisies:: hilda conkling
Melaniejaxn: little soldier with the golden helmet, o what are you guarding on my lawn? you with your green gun and your yellow beard, why do you stand so stiff? there is only the grass to fight! -hilda conkling
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Poem of the day

Charles Baudelaire Poem
Le Masque (The Mask)
 by Charles Baudelaire

Statue allégorique dans le goà»t de la Renaissance

Contemplons ce trésor de grâces florentines;
Dans l'ondulation de ce corps musculeux
L'Elégance et la Force abondent, soeurs divines.
Cette femme, morceau vraiment miraculeux,
Divinement robuste, adorablement mince,
Est faite pour trà´ner sur des lits somptueux
...

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