The collection of Phyllis McGinley's work called Times Three is organized by decade. This poem is from the "The Forties."
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BALLAD OF FINE DAYS
"Temperatures have soared to almost summer levels…making conditions ideal for bombing offensives."
–Excerpt from B.B.C. news broadcastAll in the summery weather,
To east and south and north,
The bombers fly together
And the fighters squire them forth.While the lilac bursts in flower
And buttercups brim with gold,
Hour by lethal hour,
Now fiercer buds unfold.For the storms of springtime lessen,
The meadow lures the bee,
And there blossoms tonight in Essen
What bloomed in Coventry.All in the summery weather,
Fleeter than swallows fare,
The bombers fly together
Through the innocent air.
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I knew that I was going to include a poem by Phyllis McGinley in this series, but had no idea which one, as I hadn't read her for a while and didn't remember many particulars, but rather a general sense of low-key enjoyment. Nor had I thought about when I would include her. But I was spurred to do it this week by this appreciation of her in National Review. I don't like conscripting artists into the culture war, and I don't like the headline on that piece:"The Left's War on Motherhood." Yeah, yeah, there's certainly something bad going on there, but do we really have to call everything "The [Other Side]'s War on [Good Thing]"?
You'll notice that the headline is not part of the URL, which sounds much less pugnacious: "mothers-day-writer-phyllis-mcginley-reminder-importance-of-motherhood." It's a Mother's Day piece, and it is certainly true, as the writer says, that McGinley's work presents a view of domesticity that's greatly at odds with feminism and the propaganda for it that contributes so much to the way we see these things now, and it's refreshing. But that's not why I like it. I like her dry, wry, modest, shrewd, elegant, and very skillful voice.
This poem is actually somewhat atypical. No, not somewhat, quite a bit. Much or maybe even most of her work is indeed at least loosely classifiable as "light verse," though I don't really know why that should be considered such a distinct thing. She sometimes gets close to Ogden Nash territory, but less acrobatic. That makes the occasional very serious note seem even more powerful. This one I find very much so; that last line is stunning. When I picked up the book to look for a poem to post, I found that this poem was the only one I had marked, though there are many others that should be.
Coventry, you know, was pretty much devastated by German bombs in November of 1940. Essen I think did not fare as badly.
I was only vaguely aware of McGinley's name when, fifteen years or so ago, I picked up a copy of Times Three at some kind of used book sale. Maybe it was Auden's name on the foreword that sold me. I eventually read it cover-to-cover, and it's a pretty large volume (for poetry). I guess it's no surprise that she would be thoroughly out of fashion now, but I suspect her work will be read for a long time, possibly longer than that of some currently much bigger names. I read Sylvia Plath back in the '70s when the feminist movement had made her a very big name (as she probably still is–I'm not really in touch). And I thought she was good, in that outraged, enraged woman way, but I've never felt much inclination to read her again. Whereas Times Three is a book I'll probably keep with me if I ever have to greatly reduce my holdings.
–Mac is the proprietor of this blog.
Light On Dark Water 
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