Poetry at the Library

News Date: 
1 August 2018

The Poetry by the Fireside group which meets at the library on the last Thursday of the month, had another successful year with many wonderful poems being written and shared. It is by far one of my favourite programs to attend. Our inspiration comes from photos sent out by Doris. It is amazing to see the different ways these photos kick the imagination into gear. The same photo can produce a humorous rhyming story, a thought provoking reflection or a trip down memory lane, in free verse, acrostic or rhymed metre.  All our original work is archived each month in a binder, along with the photos, on the new book shelf, so you can come in any time and read what has been put into verse. If you are interested in poetry either reading the work of others or writing your own, please come along on the last Thursday of the month at 10:30 am. The following are some of the poems shared this year.
 
Oasis

Trekking Sandhill dunes
              Boots ankle deep in aeolian quartz
                             Long distance vistas
                                          Undulating grassy surface
Dry, hot winds
                Suck sweat from brow
                              Crystalline salt decorates hat band
                                           Skin becoming leathered
Cinnabar bluestem skeletons
                 Shelter grasshopper sparrow nests
                               Cover for ornate box turtles
                                           Trekking toward egg-laying sites
Prickly-pear cacti
                  Refuge for scurrying prairie skinks
                               Soapweed yucca racemes
                                           A western meadow lark’s performance stage
A distant derrick
                 Wheel spinning, spinning
                               Drawing fossil water from the Ogallala
                                            Into the blistering Sandhill’s summer
Tired feet
                Press onward
                              Buoyed by the prospect
                                             Of a quenched thirst
 
A delighted tingle
               Courses over parched lips
                               And quivering throat
                                             A life affirming shudder

Larry Kapustka

A Windmill

 
sadly abandoned
like the old sunken tool shed
in the field beyond
a small windmill stands
metal legs extended, wired for stability
many blades gone from the wheel
energy expended
wind no longer a friend
 
in front fence posts lean south
once battered by strong north winds
that created power
turned the mill wheel
pumped the water
the windmill
once a valuable tool
can’t smile without teeth
 
a carpet of dandelions at its base
the only promise of a bright tomorrow.
 
Della L. Dickie

Green

The winter is too long in ending and I miss you.
Most of the others stay around but you always go,
Not on some southbound journey to sunnier climes
You disappear
Burrowed deep, hiding, unlike
Blue, stretched across the canvas of the sky
Tinted pink and orange at dawn and dusk
Yellow beams on cloudless days
From a golden sun with its own box of highlighters
But you are not there
You have abandoned us to dreary brown
And insipid white
We yearn for your return as
You are life and hope
You are the bright vibrant green of spring.

Jan Burney

Headwinds (An acrostic)

Heavy and low in the water, with
Every stroke we strain toward camp.
A little headwind and with un-
Daunted courage we dig in and paddle.
Wowee! Twelve miles in the current
In just four hours. Now for drinks, tapas, grilled salmon and
Nice dry socks. Lewis and Clark and the Corps of
Discovery pulled 17 miles a day, every day, upstream, rain or shine.
Syrah in hand, I’m glad I’m a tourist, not an explorer.

Doris Daley