A Poem for Karen...

Karen Hubbard Mitchell

Shoulders back, chin up

brown eyes hone in on the work,
nimble hands flying into action,
industrious soldiers of a sharp, rapid-fire mind.
Digging into life, slicing the challenges

as the swift Detroit River,
carving it's path with great intention.
By that northern town where the water is wide
she cut her teeth on usefulness,
the current that propels her

with steel determination.
The first born of Ben and Ellen,

who by sheer grit alone put education first,

she studies life with ravenous appetite.

She met Bob at university,

down south they went,
the doctor and his bride,

ears not tuned to the cornbread expression,

"Y'all come see us, ye hear."

A big city girl in a small southern town.

(God save the queen!)

She found her way,

transmitting that prodigious ethic

to the next generation,

championing women's advance,

a Girl Scout all the way,
infinity gleaming in her eyes,
grown wide

by the grand arc of those snowy great lakes.

~
Janice Baynes, January 15, 2011

(A commissioned poem offered at auction at the 2010 UUCS Auction. Like it? Come bid on this item and I'll draw you with words too. The auction, our 17th, is set for Saturay November 12, 5:30 - 9ish.)

Remembering Summer...

The Conductor

Kaci Cotter, D.R. Middle School Director of Bands

The Conductor

Cacophony in the band room

Random notes flung at the walls

Issued from eager green musicians

Who twine the middle school halls.

Just babies really

Budding in that awkward way

With fits and starts and

Tinny squeals as they learn to play.

But in all that noise

Lie the golden strands

That when timed just right

Open the portal to magic lands.

Ahhh, and up, up she goes,

A massive bird taking flight

Carried by the fledglings

She soars high, gyrating crisp and bright.

And all around in every ear

Blooms this sweet nectar of the gods

Drawn forth by one so skilled,

The wielder of the divining rod.

May 2011

"Daffodils" (1804)

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).

Seeing into the nature of things

Late day sun washes into the woods, that same sun that washed through primeval forests, warmed dinosaur backs, cradled civilizations from glorious dawns to the last fading whimpers, this same sun falls into the woods by my house, the trees witness to this quiet and ancient dance of which I am a part. Time will push me into the soil too, me and the trees will yield with more rising behind us, pulled forth by the sun. It is the nature of things.

Birds in Snow

Little brown birds pecking in the snow

along comes the cat and away they go!

De-decorating poem

After the Needles Fall…

Defrocking the Christmas tree today
Throwing off her garland like a burlesque dancer
Off with it, girl, off, off I say!

I happened on two vagabonds
Lounging on the lawn,
Mr. & Mrs. Claus,
Time for you to hang
By your necks to dry,
Then into the body bag with you!
Until next year.

Miles of golden tinsel,
tangled lights snare everything,
like fish hooks grabbing.
Off with you, into the box I say!

My house was dressed in diamonds
Twinkling, dripping from the roof
Like love so dazzling in the night,
Knotted cords in grotesque clumps
Tell another truth by day.

Ah, the magic of it all
Is for the children
And those who feign incompetence
With holiday décor
The rest of us the elves
Waving our wands
To make it all appear
and disappear again!

Janice Baynes, January 6, 2011