A Poison Tree

William Blake

I’m not quite sure where I first stumbled upon the poem A Poison Tree. I think it was in a book called Jam Jar Full which was owned by my sister Pauline.  The book was a compilation of stories and poems and I’m sure it was hers. So I coveted the book and claimed it as my own after it served its purpose for Pauline.  Jam Jar Full wasn’t just a book I pinched from my sister, it was a treasure trove of stories and poems for me to read.

William Blake is the poet who penned the rhyme and I managed to track him down in London.  Born on the 28^th of November 1757 in Soho, he was the third of seven children. Blake only attended school long enough to learn to read and write, after which he was home schooled by his mother.

Plaque on Building in South Molton Street London

Blake liked to draw and his parents enrolled him in drawing classes. He took on a position of apprentice engraver where he spent time developing his art. He was sent to copy images from Gothic churches, but we’re not here to talk just about his art, I’m a lover of his poetry.

A Poison Tree is from his collection, Songs of Experience. I think it’s one of my favourite poems to date.  I always wondered what it would feel like if the poem were actually true and you could turn your anger into something solid and sinister.  I think my apple tree would be a golden delicious tree because they are my favourite apples. I’d probably end up eating the poison fruit myself and that would be the end of me. My wrath would turn on me and I’d be outstretched beneath the tree.

William Blake was an interesting person.  He claimed to have visions from a young age.  He was said to have seen God, angels and he saw his dead brother’s ghost float out of his body and up through the ceiling clapping. He also said that his brother’s spirit visited him many times and taught him the printing method he used in Songs of Innocence.

Stained glass window in St Mary's Church, Battersea
where Blake was married

Blake married an illiterate woman Catherine Boucher, who actually signed their marriage certificate with an X. He taught her to read and write and she helped him print the illuminated poetry that he is remembered for. Sadly they didn’t have any children to pass their gifts onto.  I always think it’s a shame when the talent ends with death and isn’t passed on to another generation because the legacy from this extraordinary writer is astounding. So all we can do is try to learn the skills that came from natural talent and mimic a natural ability.

In 1926 Blake was commissioned to produce a series of engravings for Dante’s Divine Comedy. Only a handful of watercolours were produced, but these are among Blake’s finest achievements and although the project was never competed the watercolours acted as a kind of commentary on Dante’s work, although, Blake’s intent is a little unclear.

The memorial stone in Bunhill Fields

On the 12^th of August in 1827, William Blake passed away and is now buried in Bunhill Fields not far from John Bunyan and Daniel Defoe – former blog heroes. His exact resting place isn’t marked but there is a memorial stone in his honour.  It’s kind of nice to stand near that stone and reflect on a life of a great talent that blessed us Once upon a time in London.