Biography of Phyllis McGinley
Phyllis McGinley (March 21, 1905 - February 22, 1978) was an American writer of children's books and poet about the positive aspects of suburban life.
McGinley was born in Ontario, Oregon. At age 3, her family moved to Colorado, and on to Ogden, Utah after her father died.
She studied at the University of Southern California and the University of Utah in Salt Lake City, graduating in 1927. She then taught at a junior high school in New Rochelle, New York for one year, until her career as a writer and poet took off.
Her poems were published in the New York Herald Tribune and The New Yorker, among others. She also wrote the lyrics for a musical revue, Small Wonder, in 1948.
In 1955, she was elected a member of the National Academy of Arts and Letters.
In 1961 she won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry; in 1964 she was honored with the Laetare Medal by the University of Notre Dame (described as 'An honor to a man or woman who has "enriched the heritage of humanity"'). She also holds nearly a dozen honorary degrees - "including one from the stronghold of strictly masculine pride, Dartmouth College." (from the dust jacket of Sixpence in Her Shoes (copy 1964)).
McGinley died in New York.
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Phyllis McGinley Poems
Sunday Poetry: Ballade Of Lost Objects
Where are the ribbons I tie my hair with? Where is my lipstick? Where are my hose - The sheer ones hoarded these weeks to wear with
Daylight Savings Time
In spring when maple buds are red, We turn the clock an hour ahead; Which means, each April that arrives, We lose an hour out of our lives.
Daniel At Breakfast
his paper propped against the electric toaster (nicely adjusted to his morning use), Daniel at breakfast studies world disaster
She said, If tomorrow my world were torn in two, Blacked out, dissolved, I think I would remember (As if transfixed in unsurrendering amber)
Reflections At Dawn
I wish I owned a Dior dress Made to my order out of satin. I wish I weighed a little less And could read Latin.
The first thing to remember about fathers is, they're men. A girl has to keep it in mind.
The Angry Man
The other day I chanced to meet An angry man upon the street — A man of wrath, a man of war, A man who truculently bore
Ode To The End Of Summer
Summer, adieu Adieu gregarious season. Goodbye, 'revoir, farewell. Now day comes late; now chillier blows the breeze on
Intimations Of Mortality
Intimations of Mortality on being told by the dentist that this will be over soon
Intimations Of Mortality
Intimations of Mortality
on being told by the dentist that this will be over soon
Indeed, it will soon be over, I shall be done
With the querulous drill, the forceps, the clove-smelling cotton.
I can go forth into fresher air, into sun,
This narrow anguish forgotten.
In twenty minutes or forty or half an hour,