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Month: January 2024

The Ballad of Tobias Bartlett

The Ballad of Tobias Bartlett

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Tobias Bartlett was his name
A name he proudly bore
Our household never was the same
After he came through the door.

A leaper he and so much more
He flew with astounding grace
So nimbly springing from bedroom floor
To eagerly lick my face.

He was my partner on many a hike
From Acadia to Downeast
There wasn’t a trail he didn’t like
His energy never ceased.

A Wildcat traverse was not the least
Of all the mountains climbed
Its rugged steeps his joy released
His ardor so sublime.

One time I lost him on Blue Hill
The ledges were too near
Toby “Come” I called and again but still
No Toby did appear.

I descended without him filled with fear
My heart within me pounded
My hope for finding my dog so drear
When down the trail he bounded.

We went away for about a week
Left Toby with a friend
And when we returned one leg was weak
His paw it wouldn’t mend

His plight I could not apprehend
Why suddenly so lame
But brave and sweet until the end
My Toby just the same.

Tobias Bartlett was his name
A name he proudly bore
Our household never was the same
After he came through the door.

Toby

Tuesday Mornings

Tuesday Mornings

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Tuesday Mornings

 

 

I have just published a chapbook of a selection of recent poems entitled, “Tuesday Mornings: poems of wonder, lament, and whimsy.” You may purchase a copy at the Lulu Bookstore.

 

 

Here is an excerpt from the preface …

I have chosen to group the poems under three headings: wonder, lament and whimsy. All my writing begins in wonder: wonder at this extraordinarily beautiful and inscrutable world of God’s making and the privilege of living within it, observing and appreciating and engaging; wonder at the human capacity for making beauty with color and shape and texture, with melody and harmony and counterpoint, with movement, and with words; wonder at the beauty of the human spirit at its best when we are able to reflect something of the wisdom and grace and compassion of the creator whose image we bear.

This world is beautiful, indeed, but troubled and besieged by brutality, compelling the poems of lament. Lament is an ancient and powerful form of prayer, a way of giving voice to distress, of refusing to ignore or excuse injustice. Lament is not despair, but its opposite, a declaration that evil should and can be overcome, and a hope-filled expectation that its own cries will be heard, by people and by God.

Whimsy is the corollary to wonder, finding exuberant delight in the beauty and power of language itself, playing with words to induce a knowing smile or a joyful laugh, uncovering serious meaning by not taking itself too seriously.

I do hope that you will enjoy reading these poems or speaking them aloud, which is how all poetry should be heard, and that the poems may inspire your own expressions of wonder and lament and whimsy.