Natural World Poems – Bev Tappan

RIVERWOODS POEMS: STRAWBERRY BEGONIA

Bev Tappan — Tue, 11 Apr 2017 18:03:07 +0000

STRAWBERRY BEGONIA

It has such an alien look

My curly-edged-velvet-leaved plant

That hangs on a window hook.

Overnight it has shot up wands

Where perch tiny white dragonflies

Long-tailed, short-winged, each

With a round yellow body. Meanwhile

Under the pot hang long delicate

Red threads bearing widely spaced

Baby versions of the mother leaves.

The flowers are greeting the spring

Equinox or enacting a resurrection

Or else they are beckoning bees.

I call it my mystery plant.

RIVERWOODS POEMS: SONNET TO THE FIRST SNOWFALL

Bev Tappan — Mon, 12 Dec 2016 13:32:43 +0000

SONNET TO THE FIRST SNOWFALL

Behind her wrinkled monkey face

An apple-cheeked lass still smiles

At the wintry woods as a welcoming place:

The trails ahead beckon for miles.

But the creaky old back refuses to bend

To strap on the cross-country skis.

It’s just as well. Two turkeys send

Their calls from neighboring pine trees.

The winterberries wink red in the snow.

Ahead are the tracks of a snowshoe hare.

Her winter boots will suffice, she knows,

For a brief but rewarding excursion there

Where the red squirrels’ litter will be found

And many other treasures abound.

RIVERWOODS POEMS: NEIGHBORS

Bev Tappan — Sat, 30 Apr 2016 23:29:03 +0000

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: AT THE GOAT FARM

Bev Tappan — Fri, 11 Mar 2016 01:42:13 +0000

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.

TAMWORTH POEMS:THE WOODS IN WINTER

Bev Tappan — Mon, 18 Jan 2016 21:35:17 +0000

The Woods in Winter

When the snow blows up and sideways

And a white mist fills the air,

When spruces, pines and hemlocks

Have donned white winter wear,

When rocks in the mountain rivers

Are circled by collars of rime

And snow on the boulders’ shoulders

Wraps them in capes of ermine,

Then I must take to the woods,

Set my boots on snow-packed trails,

Follow the tracks of deer,

Coyotes and snowshoe hares,

Rejoice in the white open spaces,

Respond to the call of wild places.

RIVERWOODS POEMS: TREES

Bev Tappan — Sun, 10 Jan 2016 23:45:43 +0000

TREES

In years past I’ve laid my hand

On many a smooth-barked tree

On many a mountain trail

And looked up to shallow-rooted

Pines standing stately and tall.

Like Rob Frost I’ve envied the birches

That bend under burdens of snow

In graceful compliant submission,

Then rise up again in the spring

To shake their new leaves in the sun.

Now it’s limb-lopped but upright

Old skeletal trees that I notice

On country roads or in paintings,

Woodpecker raddled and ravaged

By age that I chiefly admire.

RIVERWOODS POEMS: FALLING LEAVES

Bev Tappan — Thu, 05 Nov 2015 01:50:44 +0000

FALLING LEAVES

They lift and pirouette in the pulsing breeze,

These brown and desiccated maple leaves,

Dancing and leaping and twisting, a phantom crowd,

Surrounding me and my car in a thickening cloud.

They seem to have some message they want to convey;

They seem to want me to stop while they have their say.

I will slow my pace but I will not come to a halt,

Whatever these autumn messengers foretell.

Bare branches offer an unimpeded view

Allowing the splendor of sunsets to come through.

Snow-dusted branches also have their charm:

Who strides on snowshoes easily keeps warm.

At any time of the year I’ll keep journeying.

The day has not yet come for tamely sitting.

ECUADOR POEMS: THE UPS AND DOWNS OF ECUADOR

Bev Tappan — Sun, 18 Oct 2015 23:12:32 +0000

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.

ECUADOR POEMS: THE SPICE OF VARIETY

Bev Tappan — Sun, 18 Oct 2015 23:05:59 +0000

THE SPICE OF VARIETY

In Ecuador platanos are fed to the birds:

Dozens of hummers, tanagers and such.

In Ecuador mango juice is savored

And passion fruit mousse, but not too much.

Ecuadorians favor grass-fed beef,

Sea bass, camarones and farm-pond trout.

Yuca strips dipped in sugar are a treat.

Espresso they will never do without.

Ecuador is home to many climates,

Subtropical and temperate and more,

Which Andean cloud forests generate:

It all depends on how far up you go.

So if you’re feeling tired of deja vu,

Ecuador is the perfect place for you.

ECUADOR POEMS: AT THE RIO COSANGA

Bev Tappan — Sun, 18 Oct 2015 22:53:16 +0000

AT THE RIO COSANGA

We left our San Isidro cabanas

And stopped at the bridge on the Rio Cosanga

To search for the elusive yellow duck

For which we were not to be in luck.

However, blue swallows sat on a rail

Preening and flipping their wings and tails,

Then dipping and swooping in widening arcs

Snapping up insects above the rocks

Where the river rushed in a foaming flood

Fed by the weeping clouds above.