You can find poetry in your everyday life, your memory, in what people say on the bus, in the news, or just what’s in your heart.”
— Dame Carol Ann Duffy, British poet and playwright
“I’m not a poet and right soon you’ll know it.”
— SB
Valentine wishes to you, a life of love and laughter. Valentine’s Day brings memories of poems we’ve all heard over a lifetime, “Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet and so are you.” The original poem is attributed to Joseph Johnson compiled in an English nursery rhyme book titled “Gammer Gurton’s Garland 1784.”
Rummaging through our bookshelves I stumbled on a long-forgotten chapbook, “A Little Poetry Book,” published by Starkville Writers and Illustrators Group known as SWIG and dated 2004. The collection was compiled by ten contributors as a fundraiser for the Starkville Public Library. The poets were: Debra Allen, Allen Baswell, Valeria King Cain, Armando A. de la Cruz, Andrea Dinep, Judith Ewing, Jillian Emma Hatcher, E. M. McLemore, Kittye Dell Robbins-Herring, and myself.
Published eighteen years ago, I assume some of the poets have gone on to their heavenly reward or moved to parts unknown. A quick check via the internet found Allen Baswell lives in Ackerman and is still writing short stories, poems, plays, has been a pastor and a journalist. Appropriate for Valentines here are portions from a few of the poets:
From Allen: Night star, bright star…Shining ever so bright on the moon-kissed night. Can you answer the questions echoing and evoking? Through the deep recesses of my heart. Is she the one I should dream of? Is she the one I should have and hold? Is she the one who will tell me I love you?
E. M. McLemore: I remember the day. I watched a young man walk away… My heart leapt after you-breaking. I yearned to follow, to watch over, to protect you. No, I could not follow. Wasn’t this what we had prepared you for after all…One last thing, your hound Ole Bob still hopes by the gate, he waits for you there some mornings. We hope also, and wait to see you when you get back. All my love, Mama
Jillian Emma Hatcher: Oh, little bird, you are sunbeam soaring beautifully as if you were dancing for a Queen. Tiptoeing upon a soft, fluffy cloud hidden within the fabulous blue skies. If I were a bird I too would soar as you do.
Armando A. de la Cruz: A verse form developed by Armando consisting of unlimited number of 5-syllables unrhymed lines between two Haikus — The cold chills the bone. Wind glaze senses with numbness, Polar thoughts return. Trav’ling back in time: walk among the penguins, cruise around icebergs, slide down sleek glaciers…
From the Prairie: Collards, carrots, and tomatoes too. In Grandma’s pot they make a stew. She picks them, cuts them, drops them in the pot; then salts them, stirs them, and makes them hot. Serves it up nice in a special bowl, with milk and butter and a cornbread roll. I drink my milk and eat my stew. Cause then come pie and ice cream too.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 36 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.