Bev Tappan

Author: Bev Tappan

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: KEEPING SCORE

    KEEPING SCORE

    My grandpa taught me to play cribbage.

    “Two points for His Nibs,” he’d say

    And if I’d wrongly count some cards

    He’d take those points away.

    He’d carve the turkey in the pantry

    The spaniel at his feet.

    Some bits of skin and gristle he’d

    Let fall for Tippy to eat.

    My grandpa smoked a fat cigar.

    They said he liked to drink

    Take up with women in the bars:

    It gave me cause to think.

    My calm and literate grandma never

    Spoke of his defects.

    Like her I’ll give him a measure of credit

    But not my full respect.


    “

     

  • RiverWoods Poems: Winter’s on the Wane

    I thought I heard a cardinal speak

    But how could that possibly be?

    The temps are in the twenties

    And the parking lot is icy.

    Every shrub is rimed with silver

    Snow has coated every tree.

    How does any bird find shelter

    Where uncover any seed?

    Still I know it’s not much longer

    Till he’ll claim his nesting site

    And be callng out to warn the

    Other cardinals of his rights

    Then entice a tawny female

    To co-sponsor their new tribe.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: SNOW COVER

    Snow Cover

     

    The falling snow’s benevolent.

    It blankets all our sins,

    Bestows a clean environment

    In which we can begin

    To walk with tar-free tread,

    To rid the air of soot,

    To leave no trash that spreads

    Like excrement in the woods,

    A whiteboard on which we can write

    With a pen in invisible ink,

    A foretaste of heaven’s delight

    Or so we would like to think

    Til the wind begins to blow,

    Dissipates the cloak of snow.

     

     

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: COLD WEATHER FRIENDS

    COLD WEATHER FRIENDS

    The juncos are back.

    It feels like winter.

    They’re sheltering in

    The bushy blue spruce

    Where finches have nested

    In balmier weather.

    They won’t fly south

    In retreat from the cold

    But keep on the move

    Seeking out seeds

    In sizable flocks

    Giving us hope

    Bringing us cheer

    For another new year.

     

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: ECLIPSE MOMENT

    ECLIPSE MOMENT

    (A Sonnet for Mark and Sarah)

    We watched the moon consume the sun,

    Its ebony circle slowly dim

    The light, but darkness did not come

    Until the black blot reached the rim

    Where only a halo of shine leaked out

    And pale pink bled on every horizon.

    It was then we felt the fearsome clout

    Of nothingness to put our eyes on:

    No crickets chirped, the birds were still.

    All energy, spirit seemed to leave us.

    Our batteries were drained of will

    Luna, moon goddess, of life bereaved us.

    How we all cheered when light returned.

    The sun our gratitude had earned.

     

     

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: KING KONG

    KING KONG

     

    A killer ape is loose

    On the Capitol steps.

    He pounds his chest and hoots

    Enigmatical threats

    As yet no one dares to cage

    This hysterical beast

    Who seems determined to wage

    Full scale war in the East.

    We are mesmerized by his show

    Of hyperbolic menace,

    Too lacking in foresight to know

    We may later do penance

    When millions of lives are consumed

    In nuclear blasts

    And our habitat is ruined

    By radiant aftermath.

     

     

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: “JUST SPRING” IN NORTHERN MAINE

    “JUST SPRING” IN NORTHERN MAINE

     

    Mid -May we’ve paddled north down the Allegash.

    Some snow still lies in mounds on the shaded banks

    Though bobolinks will lilt in the Ranger’s patch

    Near where we’ll pitch our tents at Long Lake camp.

    A tiny bear cub paces on a fallen tree

    Mewling for his no doubt nearby dam.

    Ahead a heron flaps up frenziedly

    Thinking to flee in needless panic from

    Our curious but unmolesting gaze.

    Among the reeds two moose lift dripping heads

    To watch us while they chomp on watery hay.

    Behind them a sly muskrat keeps to the edge.

    The evening brings a misty rain and then

     A rainbow arches at the river’s bend.

     

     

     

     

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: A PARTING WORD

    A PARTING WORD

    (In Memory of JB)

    At first the heart does not remark

    The passing of another friend.

    The aging brain makes routine note

    That all good things must come to an end.

    The list of those who’ve gone beyond

    Outnumbers now those who remain.

    But then the funeral brings to mind

    A cache of memories bitter sweet:

    Saturday evening cheese and wine

    Trail clearing bouts with fallen trees

    The underlined article under the door

    With questions: What do you think of this?

    Do you agree? And furthermore

    What do you think the answer is?

    And then the heart begins to crack.

    That kindred spirit will not be back.

     

     

     

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: A MAGIC MOMENT IN PRESCOTT PARK

    A  MAGIC MOMENT IN PRESCOTT PARK

     

    The two kites are hovering over the river

    The whale kite idly flipping its tail

    As we watch grimy Bert in his cheerful endeavors

    And pert Mary Poppins to chimney tops sails.

    The children are everywhere darting and dancing.

    We oldsters are finally starting to get it.

    The message emerges, its meaning enchanting:

    Anything can happen if only we let it.

    Smiling, we make our way out of the park.

    The sun’s eclipse is foreboding but brief.

    We need not be afraid of the dark. 

    Delight can follow after grief.

     

      

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: ON THE MOVE

    ON THE MOVE

    We are not deeply rooted trees.

    We are not meant to age in place,

    Sentinels for centuries.

    Descendants of nomadic tribes,

    Our feet were made for trekking.

    Our path to the horizon lies.

    And when of Planet Earth we tire

    We’ll launch ourselves in outer space.

    To wider vistas we’ll aspire.

    Until that cure for wanderlust

    Comes with its promise of peace:

    Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.