Bev Tappan

Author: Bev Tappan

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: A GLADSOME TIME

    A GLADSOME TIME

    Horse chestnuts lift white candles to the sky

    A paean of celebration to the season.

    Tri-colored lilacs bless us passersby

    Censing their fragrance as they gently lean.

    May burgeoning on every hand is seen.

    Back roads are edged with phalanxes of phlox:

    Mauve and pink and white they gladden the eye.

    In sheltered woodlands dogwoods shyly flock

    With mountain laurels blushing near the ground.

    Old fashioned bleeding hearts our yards festoon

    And lilies of the valley cluster round

    Our feet as we with gratitude proceed

    To make our way through one more riotous spring

    Renewed, uplifted, consciously thanksgiving.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: THE CCRC COFFEE CIRCLE

    THE CCRC COFFEE CIRCLE

    The time has come, the oldsters said,

    To talk of many things:

    Of presidential candidates

    And whether it will rain,

    Of Bobcats scooping up the yard

    And the installation of drains,

    Of who is in the nursing lodge

    And the state of someone’s brains.

    The three percent rise in annual fees

    Is always food for thought.

    Whoever came up with that idea

    In our good books is not.

    By this time the muffins are all gone

    And the coffee’s no longer hot.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS:SPRING BEAUTIES

    SPRING BEAUTIES

    How flagrantly the tulips flaunt their flavors

    (Vanilla, cherry, orange and lemon savours)

    While overhead the apple blossoms swath

    Their hosts in clouds of billowing cheesecloth.

    On woodland verges daffodils brightly beam

    And luminous lilacs over us sometimes lean.

    Modest blue grape hyacinths peep out.

    Scarlet quinces give a lusty shout.

    Cherry trees dropped their petals some weeks past.

    Violets modestly blush amidst the grass.

    Korean dogwoods are the first to blossom

    Before our native rose and ivory cousins.

    Lilies of the Valley perfume the air.

    My eyes delight in flowers everywhere.

    V

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: HERITAGE

    HERITAGE

    What we leave behind

    Is not a rich estate:

    A bent for garden plots,

    A gift for making rhymes,

    A music-making taste.

    Or perhaps you’ll find

    Some pre-Columbian pots,

    A few hooked rugs in place,

    A great-grandmother’s table,

    A World War silver star,

    Some letters from Peru

    With sterling silver flatware.

    And hopefully we’re able

    To leave behind for you

    A wrap-around of love

    To warm you when we’re gone.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: NEIGHBORS

    NEIGHBORS

    The cardinal in my Katsura tree

    Stares at my blue spruce

    From which a house finch emerges

    To chase him up to the roof.

    As I walk to the workout gym

    A squirrel crosses my path.

    I’m of no concern to him,

    An acorn within his grasp.

    The robin gives me a look

    And continues with his quest

    Hoping to trace the route

    Of earthworms under the grass

    As on a nearby birch

    A woodpecker hammers his search.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: HEADS UP

    HEADS UP

    The snow arrived in April

    But it did not kill

    The crocuses and snowdrops or

    The long-stemmed daffodils.

    The daffodils bent over

    Compliantly lay down

    Accepted their cold cover

    Prostrated on the ground.

    But in the week that followed

    Yellow heads began to rise and

    Stems began to straighten.

    We rejoiced to realize

    That spring was not defeated.

    Winter really had retreated.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: PLACEMENTS

    PLACEMENTS

    I’ve grown accustomed to this space

    These two big rooms I shared with you

    Where in the parking lot they face

    I see compadres come and go.

    We shared small places, you and I

    Two-person tents on river banks

    The back porch of a double-wide

    Youth hostels where we flung our packs.

    But we shared larger spaces too

    The canyon’s depths, the river’s run

    The prairie’s breadth, the ocean’s blue

    The broad earth was our living room.

    Now you have sought a distant star

    While I am lightly tethered here.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: THE COMING OF SPRING

    THE COMING OF SPRING

    It begins with the house finches

    Reclaiming the blue spruce

    In early February

    Unfazed by lingering inches

    Of snow or cold,  using

    Their last year’s sanctuary.

    And then the cardinal calls

    From behind the garages.

    A crowd of robins assembles

    To sample a pear tree’s largesse.

    By now it is March.  Snowdrops

    And purple crocus are showing.

    Maples turn red.  Willows

    Turn yellow.  A circle

    Of lady bluebirds flies close

    To my daughter’s Dunstable windows.

    Today is the first of April.

    Forsythia blooms beside daffodils.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: THE SNOWS OF SPRINGTIME

    THE SNOWS OF SPRINGTIME

    Old Man Winter has lost his grip.

    This March storm he has thrown at us

    Is not an overpowering blizzard.

    We watch the white blobs plopping off

    The spruce arms.  Where the plow has passed

    Pavements are black and bare and glistening.

    We are not housebound.  We can dare

    To venture out and do our errands.

    The kids will build their snowmen, make

    Snow angels, hurl snow missiles.

    Sun will turn snowflakes into wine

    For crocuses and daffodils to drink.

    There goes a crow, casually high-stepping

    Pausing to dip his beak into the ice cream.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: AT THE GOAT FARM

    AT THE GOAT FARM

    It’s mud time in March and I am on my way

    To pick up milk at the Jesta Farm

    Where mother goats are kidding every day.

    There’s mud on the farmyard driveway

    Covered with hay.  The chickens prance

    To meet me, clucking their querulous queries.

    I warn them not to take a chance

    On foraging under my car wheels.

    Pungent odors assail my nose

    As I slide open the door to the warm barn

    And hear the bleats of nanny goats

    Who fear their kids have come to harm.

    I take my milk and head for home

    Where ice no longer coats our pond.