Bev Tappan

Category: Pollution and Climate Awareness Poems

Bev has always been an Activist for Nature

  • Bev reads at ESOM – 1/22

    Ellen Schmidt Open Mic January 17, 2022

    • hosted by Dan Tappan
    • The Woods in Winter
    • Trees

    Ellen Schmidt Open Mike January 3, 2022

    • hosted by Dan Tappan
    • A Christmas Lament

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: A CHRISTMAS LAMENT

    When it’s raining in December

    We know climate change is here

    And we hardly can remember

    When the snow brought Christmas cheer.

    Then the sleigh bells all were jingling

    As we coasted over the snow

    And our voices all were mingling

    In the carols we still know.

    Now alas the gray rain’s falling

    On the streets so wet and bare.

    It is really quite appalling

    That there’s not a snowflake there.

    And the lakes are all unfrozen.

    We’ve forgotten how to ski.

    Oh we never should have chosen

    To enact this tragedy.

    (RiverWoods Poems, Dec. 2021)

  • 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: THE CHOICE

    THE CHOICE

    In autumn the golden willow weeps

    While saffron leaves still cling to the beech.

    In a lengthening line we’ve come to stand

    For the water of life in an arid land.

    As wildfires rage in southern climes

    As aquifers shrink, as wells go dry

    We hold our protest signs up high.

    Cars honk approval as they go by.

    It’s oil or water: they do not mix.

    In the end the choice comes down to this:

    We’ll keep the petrol in the ground

    Or life on earth will no longer be found.

    This morning black ice, a dusting of white

    Remind us of winter’s implacable might.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: EARLY WARNING

    EARLY WARNING

    For all you leaf peepers who know

    To come up to the Whites in October,

    You may be too late for the show.

    Our maples are reddening early.

    Leaves and needles are brown.

    It is only late September, but

    We are suffering from a drought.

    Some branches are already bare.

    By the time most of you get here,

    We may have no vistas to share.

    Is this the promise of the future?

    Has the time come to mourn the maples?

    That is a most depressing picture,

    And for spring sugaring it bodes ill.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: NOSTALGIA

    NOSTALGIA

    We look at old time pictures

    To see how thick the ice

    Once froze to hold our fish shacks,

    How deep the hole to pull the pike

    Or perch or pickerel through.

    Those were the days when snow

    Would drift up to the windows

    And we would hire men to clear

    The porch or sun room roof.

    The yearly dogsled races

    Were held on Winnepesaukee.

    There was cross country skiing.

    Snowshoes were more than ornaments.

    Old photos show how it was.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: WISHFUL THINKING

    :

    WISHFUL THINKING

    Carbon is not our only bane.

    More dangerous is potent methane

    Rising from every cattle herd,

    From every landfill undeterred

    And melting permafrost up north:

    In cumulus clouds it billows forth.

    Four hundred thousand Hiroshimas

    Equal one day of noxious gases.

    Oh for a breath of Eden’s clear

    Unpolluted ambient air,

    Oceans of fat unfettered fish,

    Springs of water pure and fresh,

    Verdant fields immune to drought

    And temperate zephyrs from the south.

  • RIVERWOODS POEMS: THE WINTER THAT WASN’T

    THE WINTER THAT WASN’T

    On February first the wind

    Leapt up in my face and opened

    My jacket, which I did not mind

    So balmy and soft was the air.

    It felt like the first day of March

    Roaring in, dissolving the snow,

    Summoning vultures whose harsh

    Cries raised my eyes to the sky.

    And so they continue, these warm

    Days with cold nights which cause

    Our maple tree owners alarm

    Lest their syrup season founder.

    Behind us the two warmest years

    On record and now a foreshortened

    Winter: it surely appears

    Our New England climate has altered.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: PINKHAM NOTCH SEPTEMBER 2015

    PINKHAM NOTCH: SEPTEMBER 2015

    It hurts my heart when I discern

    Our flaming maples brown-edged and sere

    At that ebullient time of year

    That brings the tourists to our region.

    And birches’ withered yellow leaves

    Are curled and dropping from the trees

    Depressing my spirits seriously.

    The Appalachians I have loved,

    Famed for fall foliage brilliance,

    May not deserve a second glance

    Without their scarlet Redcoats.

    I’m glad I won’t be here to read

    That chapter in their history.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: A PRAYER FOR OUR PLANET

    A PRAYER FOR OUR PLANET

    He came to our UU pulpit,

    A self-confessed atheist

    And erudite eco-biologist,

    Not to redeem our souls

    But to attune our thoughts

    To the awesome universe of microbes

    That shape and manipulate our bodies:

    Our bodies that themselves are habitats,

    Complex eco-systems,

    Some of which will endure,

    Some of which will go extinct.

    Our eco-mentor mentioned

    That we are part of a larger

    Biota, our region of earth,

    And we are all connected

    To every living thing,

    Some of which may endure

    Most of which will go extinct.

    That is largely up to us.

    Master of all universes,

    Almighty Force and Source,

    Guide us in our choices.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: AS PLAIN AS BLACK AND WHITE

    AS PLAIN AS BLACK AND WHITE

    Except when the next polar vortex

    Launches its ice shafts from the Arctic

    The winters in northern Maine ain’t

    What they used to be.  Our partially frozen

    Lakes no longer hold up our trucks

    And fishing shacks.  Our skis skid

    On glazed and glistening worn-down snow.

    On this first day of the new year

    The Androscoggin still flows free

    From Gorham east to Rumford, where

    Another dam delays it long enough

    For icy platelets to collect and merge

    Into almost-circles of white on black,

    An abstract Escher-like design or pattern

    That seems to hold some urgent message

    For those with eyes wide open to see.

  • TAMWORTH POEMS: SPRING CLEANING

    SPRING CLEANING

     

    April twenty-six has been proclaimed

    As Roadside Litter Cleanup Day:

    Volunteer crews have arrived to obey.

    Good housekeepers would feel ashamed

    Not to be cleaning out cupboards today.

    Lawnkeepers are raking off dead leaves,

    Gardeners are turning up fresh soil,

    While everyone else in the Northeast heaves

    A sigh of relief that April rains

    Have washed the dirty snow away.