Bev Tappan

Category: Adventure Poems

Traveling and exploring are the keys to longevity

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: END OF SUMMER THOUGHTS

    END OF SUMMER THOUGHTS

    The sun was bright, the surf was high

    As my daughter and her wife and I

    Drove slowly along the New Hampshire shore

    Among cyclers and bikers and pedestrians, more

    Traffic and cars at the curb than I

    Could remember seeing in days gone by

    No doubt because it was Labor Day

    And everyone wanted the summer to stay.

    At Orient Point we took to a trail

    And watched some distant yachtsmen sail.

    We saw the cormorants flex their wings

    While gulls pursued their wanderings.

    The Isles of Shoals seemed beckoning.

    I thought about that old time inn

    Whose porch I once sat happily on

    With a dear love who now was gone.

  • Bev reads at ESOM – 3/22

    Ellen Schmidt Open Mike – March 21, 2022

    • hosted by Dan Tappan
    • The Trail Not Taken (with Apology to Robert Frost)
    • A Reminder

    Ellen Schmidt Open Mike – March 7, 2022

    • hosted by Dan Tappan
    • The Kancamagus Hike
    • The Last Day of March

  • 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.

     

     

     

     

  • NORWAY POEMS: A TOAST TO NORWAY

    A TOAST TO NORWAY

    Land of fjords and mighty glaciers

    Waterfalls and lonely farms

    You exceed our expectations

    You have strangely winsome charms.

    From the ice age still emerging

    Northern lights fluoresce your skies.

    Dog sleds cross your frozen valleys

    Reindeer drink from holes in ice.

    Skiers trek beside your railways

    Down the slopes and through the woods

    Hut to hut and town to town

    Snow-connected neighborhoods.

    In the summer’s ceaseless light

    Gardens burgeon, crops erupt.

    Sheep and goats and cattle graze

    Widely on your mountain tops

    Sentinel farms on fjords and highlands

    Villages with stave church steeples

    Glass-towered cities, bullet trains

                                                        Nordic blond athletic people:

    Cognizant of all your virtues

    We of southern climes salute you.

     

     

  • NORWAY POEMS: TROLL TUNNELS

                                                        NORWEGIAN TROLL TUNNELS

    You see their statues everywhere

                                                         Those weird Norwegian trolls. 

    Big-eyed, big-bellied and big-eared

    They’ve popped up from their holes.

    Perhaps that’s why on every road

    And under every hill

    So many tunnels have been bored

    With more in progress still.

    And even ships will soon descend

    Beneath the hills and sea

    To sooner reach their journey’s end

    From gales and blizzards free.

    Safety and comfort are the goals

    Norwegians most esteem.

    Convenience is why they tunnel roads

    And drive with moderate speed.

     


     

     

     

  • NORWICH YEARS: THE INN AT TAKAYAMA

    THE INN AT TAKAYAMA

    Clad in our blue and white guesthouse kimonos

    We sit at a low table

    Where oval cups repose while tea leaves

    Steep.  Calm as anemones.

    We have drifted in steaming baths, shed travel

    Stress with western clothes.

    Lemon lilies smile by the television.

    From cherry tree to river

    Finch notes drop with white petals.

    Kneeling on the tatami mat

    The innkeeper’s wife and her maid pull sheets

    Smooth as just fallen snow

    Tight across fiery red futons.

    Later we will stroll along the shore

    And cross the bridge to the three-story pagoda.

  • CUBA POEMS: BALCONY VIEW

    Across the bay breezes

    Ruffle the Caribbean waves

    Sending their blessed cool

    To my fifth floor outlook whence

    I watch the Afro boys

    Run and jump off the pier,

    The sunfish sailors race

    In a long leisurely line,

    A huge pontoon under sail,

    A ferry cargo-ing fares,

    Bathers clustered in a shady

    Corner of the hotel pool

    And coconut palms a-sway:

    It’s a “typico” Cuban day.

  • CUBA POEMS: AT BREAKFAST

    AT BREAKFAST

    Blackbirds soar across

    The al fresco cafeteria,

    Alight on a plate of melon,

    Dance on it,  pick at it

    And squabble about it

    Until the diner approaches

    And we consider whether

    We should advise the lady

    That her fruit has been pre-

    Tasted and appreciated.

    At last pity prevails.

    We warn her of her visitors’

    None too sanitary intrusions.

    She settles for an espresso.

  • CUBA POEMS: MIXED MEMORIES

    What lingers in my mind

    Of my seven days in Cuba?

    Flamboyant poinciana trees’

    Scarlet spreadsheets overhead,

    Umbrellas shading pedestrians

    From the lasering tropical sun,

    Smiles and shouts of “Hola!

    Bienvenidos a los Americanos!”

    A rainbow bridging a bay,

    Skies at sunset orangey-pink,

    The leisurely arcs of vultures,

    A teal green, royal blue Caribbean,

    Low hanging mangos and guavas,

    The exuberance of syncopated song.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: MOON MEMORIES

    Moon Memories

    How many moons did we gaze at

    From that first one in Craftsbury’s skies

    That shone on the cross-country ski trails,

    Showed the love light in your eyes:

    On the banks of the Allagash River,

    At our tent in the Everglades,

    In the Lake Huron island campsite

    Where our food bag was rifled by bears,

    At a midsummer fest in Denmark,

    In Aruba’s phosphorescent sea

    And Saint John’s coral reefs.

    Tonight when I looked at the moon

    I yearned for the days that are gone.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: OUR LAST ADVENTURE

    Our Last Adventure

    We took the icebreaker out of St. John

    With her Russian crew and Canadian chefs

    To explore the rocky coast of Labrador

    And mingle with the friendly Inuits.

    In Just spring on the tundra in late July

    The alpine meadows were in full flower.

    Polar bears were easy to spy

    And black bears lolling on grassy shores.

    We bounced on kodiaks into the shallows.

    Our guides carried rifles and went ahead.

    This far north there were no more roads:

    Villagers kayaked by sea instead.

    Mission churches, schools, meeting houses,

    Doctor Grenfell’s famous clinic,

    Hopes for renewable tidal power,

    Gemstones and carvings in the markets,

    You with your daughter, still able to hike,

    Relishing views from the sea-sprayed deck:

    I cherish these pictures in my mind

    Years after our Inuit plane flew us back.

  • ECUADOR POEMS: THE UPS AND DOWNS OF ECUADOR

    THE UPS AND DOWNS OF ECUADOR

    Agoutis and ant-eating armadillos,

    Anis and toucans and bronze parrots

    Are just a few exotic dwellers

    Found in Ecuador’s cloud forests.

    And if you ascend to the Andean highlands

    Cara cara and condors will soar overhead,

    Andean deer will graze in the grasslands,

    Alpine hare will lurk in the shade.

    Unique parama plants abound

    Giant rosettes and grasses above all.

    Downy and lidded leaves are found

    Protected from the wind’s assault.

    And all are steadily upward moving

    As earth’s climate continues warming.