By Althea Church
Each December the AAUW book group, in a holiday mood, hosts a Read-Around. Last December (2021, post-vaccines) we “performed” Agatha Christie’s mystery “And Then There Were None” to much laughter and fun. At our recent meeting, in our new space at Left Bank in North Bennington, members were invited to bring a favorite poem, holiday theme or otherwise.
Around the table, Kathy Wagenknecht started the recitation with T. S. Eliot’s somewhat dark and touching “Journey of the Magi.” Kathy finished with her light hearted original poem:
No “L” for Christmas Eve
We wish you the happiest day today,
This merriest eve of the year.
Snow-covered ground, if that you desire,
Or a fat man with toys and good cheer.
Your wandering kin returned to the hearth,
Your friends and your neighbors drawn near.
We wish you the joy of a day on this earth,
This merriest eve of the year.
Sheila Mullineaux read from a book of poetry by local author Carol Frome. She also shared with us a poem, “The Silence,” written by her nephew Michael Barnes, who has been writing poetry since high school. Her last poem was a favorite by former poet laureate Billy Collins, who writes with seriousness and humor, “Lines Composed Three Thousand Miles From Tintern Abbey.”
Mary Feidner chose “Mrs. Scrooge” a story in poem by former British poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy. The tale picks up on the happy ending of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” and brings it into the 21st century with concern about consumerism, sustainability, and conservation. The subject is serious, but there was much humor in the poem also. Mary’s reading of the small book was a theatrical performance, and we appropriately applauded.
Suzanne Kirkpatrick gave us Emily and Robert, two much-loved poets. Suzanne especially likes Emily Dickinson’s poetry about death. So few words perfectly express the author’s feelings about mortality.
“Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – ’tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –“
After reading Robert Frost’s popular poem, we discussed the meaning of “Fences Make Good Neighbors.” While the old stone fences at one time kept livestock in the owners’ pastures, the oft crumbling fences now sometimes bring neighbors together to repair the walls, and perhaps relationships.
Berta Winiker was recently invited to participate in an exhibit at Southern Vermont Art Center. Several poets were selected by James Crews to develop original poetry in response to Gail Winbury’s abstract paintings, “The Girl Who Drew Memories.”
Plant Dreaming Deep
With fire in the belly
A stream of consciousness
Trickles through cracks and crevices
Gaining a foothold on the stirrings
Bubbling up from the depths
At the very core of movement
A gentle and steadfast gravitation
Meeting and testing the surface tension
Cleaving, imploding, blazing
At last, the reward of a brilliant dawn.
Jan Day read from a tiny volume “The Twelve Terrors of Christmas” by John Updike with wonderful illustrations by Edward Gorey. It’s a typical Edward Gorey gothic view of holidays and humanity, and it was hilarious!
Althea Church told us about a Robert Frost poem lamenting the loss of a tree. In December 1936 two South Shaftsbury youths cut down a Christmas tree on his land. Frost was not happy and the local constable became involved. The next year a poem about the incident became Frost’s Christmas card, titled “To a Young Wretch”. (I wish I had been on his Christmas list, as it is a delightful poem, illustrated by JJ Lankes woodcut.) This card was in the exhibit “Robert Frost: At Present in Vermont” last year at the Bennington Museum. Here is the last part of the short poem:
“And though in tinsel chain and popcorn rope
My tree, a captive in your window bay,
Has lost its footing on my mountain slope
And lost the stars of heaven, may, oh, may
The symbol star it lifts against your ceiling
Help me accept its fate with Christmas feeling.”
Thea also read two popular Emily Dickinson poems, “Hope is the thing with feathers” and
“There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human Soul –“