Bev Tappan

Month: October 2016

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: WHITE MOUNTAIN ART

    WHITE MOUNTAIN ART

    The artists stayed in grand hotels

    Leaving in payment for their keep

    Saleable oils or watercolors

    Where light flickers through lacy leaves

    Bounces off rocks and sheep or cows

    Gleams on waterfalls and soars

    All unconfined to the mountaintops.

    Always something catches the eye

    In the foreground – a red coat or a dog.

    The trees are finely drawn and shadowed.

    You can tell weather by the clouds

    In skies of varied blues and grays.

    These pictures are easy to live with.

    Small as postcards or too big to hang

    On parlor walls, they hide themselves

    Murky with dust in farmhouse auctions.

    Today we point the lens at the mountain:

    Snow flocks the firs on high ridges.

    The alabaster peaks are carved

    Chrystal sharp by the cold blue air.

    Among the hardwoods a smoldering fire

    Of fall foliage lingers – beech,

    Birch and the last of the sugar maples.

    Catching the eye in the foreground, framed

    By telephone poles, lettered in gold

    Is the sign of the Up Country Saloon.

  • RIVERWOODS/TAMWORTH POEMS: A SHOW OF COLORS (Autumn, 2016)

    A SHOW OF COLORS

    At first we thought the lengthy drought

    Would quench our usual fires of fall

    And we would enter winter without

    Our annual foliage spectacle,

    For many of our trees went brown

    As summer neared its torpid end

    And leaves dropped serely on the ground.

    What else could this sad sight portend?

    Some say that trees can communicate

    By underground telegraphic systems.

    Perhaps they sent word to their forest mates

    That the time had come to show resistance.

    So our maples were able to concentrate,

    Condense their chromosomes and atoms

    And flare up in a blinding last display

    Of death-defying radiant patterns.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: ON OCTOBER 12

    ON OCTOBER 12

    A cacophony of geese flew by

    As drivers all used to do

    Honk, honk honking vociferously

    In the streets of Lima, Peru.

    As we watched, they shifted formation

    Forming two separate Vees

    But maintaining their congregation

    With graceful and admirable ease.

    We knew where they were headed

    Though they were soon out of sight

    Bound for warm waters, determined

    To leave behind long wintry nights

    And we applauded their foresight

    Well aware that their instinct was right.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: ON PERFECTION

    ON PERFECTION

    The moon was a crescent ornament

    On the ebony curtain of night

    Hung by a master scene maker

    A mesmerizing sight.

    I could not take my eyes off it.

    It glued me to the screen

    Too perfect for my mortal eyes

    Unused to a flawless scene.

    We need limits to our horizons

    Some rain in desert climes.

    Our heroes are not paragons

    Nor our ointments without flies.

    So I’ll welcome a cloudcast moon

    And not expect heaven too soon.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS:REQUIEM

    REQUIEM

    The skeletal tree

    By the roadside, in the meadow,

    That seemed to greet me

    When I drove into town,

    Its jaggedy branches

    Held stoically high

    Whatever the chances

    Of windstorm or ice,

    Gave me courage to face

    My ninety-plus years

    With a modicum of grace

    And a drop of good cheer.

    But today it is gone

    And I can’t help but mourn.