A Pretty Who Town?

Such a great picture.
 I found it here.

In the spirit of getting to know the anonymity behind the blog, I figured I'd explain why 'A Pretty How Town' is the title of my blog - in case you hadn't guessed already.

As I mention in my profile, I love e.e.cummings; he is my favourite poet ever (even more so than Shakespeare and Christina Rossetti). I'm an English student so words and literature mean the world to me, and poetry in particular strikes a chord.

My favourite e.e.cummings poem is 'anyone lived in a pretty how town', explaining both the web address (http://anyonelivedin.blogspot.com) and the title itself.

It took every modicum of willpower I have not to include my in-depth, word-for-word analysis of this incredible poem, but I resisted and so here it is, on its own, in all its beautiful, innocent, spine-tingling glory:

anyone lived in a pretty how town

anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn't he danced his did. Women and men (both little and small) cared for anyone not at all they sowed their isn't they reaped their same sun moon stars rain children guessed (but only a few and down they forgot as up they grew autumn winter spring summer) that noone loved him more by more when by now and tree by leaf she laughed his joy she cried his grief bird by snow and stir by still anyone's any was all to her someones married their everyones laughed their cryings and did their dance (sleep wake hope and then)they said their nevers they slept their dream stars rain sun moon (and only the snow can begin to explain how children are apt to forget to remember with up so floating many bells down) one day anyone died i guess (and noone stooped to kiss his face) busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april with by spirit and if by yes. Women and men (both dong and ding) summer autumn winter spring reaped their sowing and went their came sun moon stars rain

Now my conscience can rest at ease knowing I've included a wee bit of literature in amongst all the other pretty things.

Ciao for now,

Charlotte