2025 Poetry Walk
2025 Poetry Walk
April 1–30
We’ve turned our Boardwalk into a Poetry Walk! Celebrate National Poetry Month with a stroll around the library’s prairie land, where you can enjoy the natural beauty of the grounds while taking in the splendor of the written word. This year’s Poetry Walk features poems from local writers that will inspire you to create some art of your own!
2025 Featured Poems
Adieu
By Mark Kokotan
Alaska
By Andrea Mento
An Ode To Christopher Lee’s Recitation Of, The Raven
By Patrick J. Byrne
BE YOU
By Charles Tarjan
Black and Tan
By Dolores Soverino
Box of Undreams
By Jamie Sladkey Meehan
Clarity
By Victoria A. Witkewitz
Dignity
By Joane Evans Scholefield
Excerpt from Nary A Picture In Sight At All Through The House
By Gene Gryniewicz
Feelings
By Diane Shaar
Friends
By S. Thatcher
Gardens of Beautiful Flowers
By Nancy P. Stringer
Goodbye Winter…Hello Spring
By Connie Pavur
Haiku Trio
By Elaine Gotfryd Noonan, Power Poet
Hurry Up!
By Catherine Geisbush
I Know You, Stranger
By Lovie Nowak
I saw glory through God’s eyes!
By Erin Soto
Learning
By Cheryl Host
My season is short
By Tim McElligott
Neonatal
By Janna Smithson
The Beginning
By Celeste M Nelson
The Bridge
By Lennart Lundh
Three Red Cars Parked All In A Row
By Geri Magnuson
Whale
By Nancy Hodges
Winter’s Chill
By Cathi Kadow
See 2024 Poetry Walk Featured Poems
Adieu
by Mark Kokotan
At twilight’s end, when words turn soft
And Sol again wakes in the east
We’ll drink a toast to days gone by
Cherishing fond memories.
As leaves upon an autumn wind
We drifted to myriad lands
A wanderlust consumed our hearts
Hotter than African sands.
Whene’er we met at fate’s decree
In hemisphere south or above
We’d stroll along some starlit shore
Murmuring tales of love.
But now this fragile shell I wear
Is longing eternity’s sleep
We never did find Shangri-La
Still it is no cause to weep.
And if we do not meet anon
Nor rendezvous at rainbow’s end
Please hold me while I try to say
Thank you, for being my friend.
Alaska
By Andrea Mento
Is anyone else having a whale of a good time? Alaska, a place I once called home. A place where I find that part of my heart still resides. What is it about that place that makes something wiggle inside? The dispersed islands scattered here and there, the frequent chill in the air, watching fisherman harvest seaweed out at sea, No that’s not it, it was the fresh fish from Trish or was it watching the black bears sneak out, cross the street and head down to the creek who would then enjoy a salmon treat.
Sure, there is a PSA and stay out of the water warning here and there and prices in the grocery store are sky high oh but no one seemed to care. I know, it was the squishy and soggy sounds that dressed the aisle floors, those sought after tuff boots that told of someone’s cherished story. Oh was it a scene. Tuffs are as rugged and worn as the locals who reside there. One often heard, “The barge is not coming in today,” a common saying almost every other day as the shelves remained bare. A marine highway system so heavily relied upon for Alaska’s coastal communities. Let’s see what’s more, oh yes, sinking ships, bush pilots and planes that travel the milk run every other day, the Misty Fjords, did someone say search and rescue were called again today? collecting clams along the tide, turkey mushrooms that are oh so wide, salmon runs, and watersheds.
What is it about Alaska? I know, it’s when she took note that her life really mattered.
Cruise ships, ½ year commercial diamond shops closed no sooner than the tourist stepped foot back on the dock, thousands of people stop in but only for the day, Sweet Mermaids and New York Café – knitting at night in a bar did someone say? Only in Alaska. Maybe it was the locals sharing their talents on stage chanting sea shanty’s and country line dancing at the local monthly grind in the Saxman Tribal Long House. Totem poles along the bay, or maybe it was a stroll one day to a discovery of a treasured find while looking through the Ketchikan Museum Archives; What’s this? A black and white photo of HER Italian grandfather during his station in the coastguard. Only in Alaska.
What was it about that place. But wait there’s more. Main street gallery such a galore. A place where a nobody can become a somebody. A pop-up gallery, your name in lights. Nothing to do says who. Chilcat weaving classes, a trip to Juneau to the Sea Alaska Heritage Institute, totem carvings, mountain goats, formline, spruce trees and who can’t forget the basketweaving. It’s a place where only the rugged survive and arts thrive. That’s not all; 13 ft of rain each year, a 28 mile one way street around the island, oh yes, of course how could one forget, there was a house that burned down at least once a week, scarcity of work, and then there was the shipyard or was it an asylum sanctuary? It was a wildlife for those who dared. What was it about Alaska that keeps her heart so near? Coastal cultures, adventure. Did I hear you right, it costs $12,000 a month for your business lease. It was a fun year and I must say thank you Ketchikan, AK. But I had to leave because I couldn’t make my rent.
An Ode To Christopher Lee’s Recitation Of, The Raven
By Patrick J. Byrne
There I Sat ‘mid Beak And Talon,
Lis’ning To Sir Edgar Allen,
Told by Lee Of Lost Lenore,
Of Love Now Gone, Forever More.
Whilst Storm Outside With Thunder Rumbled,
I Gripped My Chair, Defenses Crumbled.
And Heard This Poem From Days Of Yore,
Yanked From The Past, And To The Fore.
In Trochaic Octameter His Voice Delivered,
Those Famous Words And Yes, I Shivered,
And ‘cause I Knew What Was In Store,
I Felt It Best To Lock The Door.
He Led Me Through That Gripping Poem,
My Mind Afraid, Began To Roam,
For As The Rain Did Start To Pour,
He Quote The Raven, Nevermore.
BE YOU
By Charles Tarjan
She never married again,
my mother, although there was time
after the February 5 a.m. nightmare
that changed everything.
My father became only a faded acquaintance
that I knew through black and white photographs
I was young.
There was one man-friend
who owned a shiny bowling ball
and had keys dangling from his belt.
He treated her nice. That sometimes isn’t enough.
She wasn’t interested.
I never knew why
until now as we approach
our next phase.
I realize no one else could ever wear your smile, your laugh, your shoes.
No one else could ever be you.
Black and Tan
By Dolores Soverino
A beautiful soul with a kind heart
You were super smart
Our companion and friend
Our protector until the end
Will miss our walks and playtime
Hide and seek, football, peek a boo
And Mr. Giggles too
You were more than a pet
A loving family member we will never forget
Our house was a home with you here
The silence is almost too much to bear
You hid your pain from us
Hearts so heavy could almost bust
Our final act of love for you
We released you to Heaven
No more pain La Bella Luna
Young again and running free
Wait for us under our favorite tree
“We’ll be loving you always
For a love that’s true always
Not for just an hour
Not for just a day
Not for just a year
But ALWAYS”
Our Luna 11/1/13–12/7/24
Dogs’ only flaw is not living long enough
Box of Undreams
By Jamie Sladkey Meehan
In a spot beneath my bed
Lives a box of broken dreams.
In it lies a hundred lives
I never got to live.
I open up its tattered top
To add a shattered thing.
I pause before I place it in
To reminisce once more.
What I have loved and what I’ve lost
And what never began.
I hold the fragments to my chest
To see what fits again.
What will reattach and remain me
What gets boxed down in?
Clarity
By Victoria A. Witkewitz
Waiting in this moment for all to become clear
With focus, courage, and confidence we hope to experience year after year
Grasping for the words that will capture your soul
To find a way the story will be rightfully told
It takes time for the perfect tale to unravel
And sometimes we must choose the roads less traveled
Don’t give up or lose hope in this time that only knows despair
Exhale the frustration, inhale faith like a breath of fresh air
For the perfect time will come to you and won’t be a second late
And know that once you look back, it will be worth the wait
Dignity
Joane Evans Scholefield
Dignity has no gender.
Dignity has no age.
Dignity has no skin color.
Dignity has no body size.
Dignity has no education.
Dignity has no politics.
Dignity has no relationship status.
Dignity has no religion.
Dignity has no health status.
Dignity has no economic status.
Dignity has no vocation.
Dignity has no avocation.
Dignity has no agenda.
Dignity has dignity.
Dignity is dignity.
Excerpt from Nary A Picture In Sight At All Through The House
By Gene Gryniewicz
Poems are the dreams we crumple
into our pockets after we have dreamed
them; they are not
forgotten … they are never
forgotten, or forgiven – for that
matter – they are only misremembered.
Poems wrapped in a worn red handkerchief;
we share them
over cheese; we hold hands across
the table. We sip tea; we have
outgrown coffee. We pretend practiced
spontaneity … well … enough.
Poems slip through the holes we sew into
our pockets. They are the loose change we
always intend to save … but never quite get
around to –
because –
Poems we look for – in our pockets, in the closet, in
the trash; they were there just a minute ago … I
saw them; I wrote them. I am looking for them. for
you. But I’m always looking on the wrong street
corner … because the light is better. An old story
goes that way. Or this: see a pin; pick it up –
Feelings
By Diane Shaar
When you’re sad you try to hide it by putting a smile on your face,
Trying to seal the hurt with a little bit of grace,
Life’s a revolving door, like a merry go round,
It will keep you running in circles, until your feelings are found,
The hurt, happiness, the joy and the pain,
Keeping a balance so we don’t go insane,
The secret to feelings is to let the sun shine in,
Keeping the calm and preventing the din,
We don’t know what feelings each day will bring,
A somber mood or a reason to sing,
Like rushing through a jungle and trying to survive,
Each feeling you experience will enable you to thrive,
So don’t prevent feelings from coming through your door,
You would be cheating your life, from being able to soar.
Friends
By S. Thatcher
Friends come along
Like butterflies floating
On a warm summer breeze.
They land on flowers
With a gentle touch,
Giving them what they need.
Friends like butterflies
Support and comfort
In gentle loving ways.
But you my friend
Your friendship shines,
Each and every day.
Healing and humbleness
Is your true forte.
The universe brought us together
In a unique and inspiring way.
Gardens of Beautiful Flowers
By Nancy P. Stringer
The garden flowers are fantastic in spring, summer and fall.
The trees, the bushes and the plants – I love them all.
Of all the places to go – gardens are one of my favorite fun —
Seeing so many nice plants before the growing season is done.
How much time before the frost, when the flowers are dead?
Thinking of the cold, perhaps even ice – is what I dread.
But the garden wasn’t just plants that grew from seeds –
Unfortunately, in the garden were weeds and more weeds.
To be honest, pulling out weeds can be an overwhelming chore.
A person gets tired and the person’s muscles get sore.
How fast the garden can get weeds is a mystery indeed.
Flowers are beautiful but those ugly weeds — no one will need.
There are hornets, the wasps, spiders, and bees.
Remember, gardens are not just plants, bushes and trees.
For winter to end — I wait for the warm weather of spring —
For gardens of beautiful flowers and for the birds to sing.
Goodbye Winter…Hello Spring
By Connie Pavur
Winter’s visage done
Gone the cold, the ice,the snow
Earth’s rebirth begun
Seeds bask in the sun
Dormant bulbs drink up the rain
God’s design begun
Each leaf and bud hears
April sings a wake up song
And soon birds too, appear
Warmth renews the land
Spring enlivens it again
Time for growth at hand
Spring renews me too
Pages of my book of life
Reflection starts new
Be kind-gentle -strong
A vow made to be better
Rectify the wrong
I am but one voice
To speak for the good of all
Let me make that choice.
Haiku Trio
By Elaine Gotfryd Noonan, Power Poet
Dessert in the Sky
Dippin’ Dots snowflakes
Tongue out catching
yummy treats
Melting, melting – GONE
*****
Planet Disco
Mirrored galaxy
Pulsating beats, flying
sweat
Dancing all night long
******
Outer Space Queen
Intergalactic
Real time dreams
manifested
NEUTRINO powered
Hurry Up!
By Catherine Geisbush
I planned to submit an entry
But presumed I didn’t have time.
Aspired to compose a poem,
Words woven into a rhyme.
Time ticking quickly escaped me,
Required ideas to mingle together.
Ah, but will I meet the deadline?
Depends, maybe now, maybe never.
Poetic verses came and went
But due to procrastination
Regretfully, I now find myself,
In a strenuous situation.
Hope the lyrics reappear
Still a chance to tell my tale,
And imagine my words are posted,
Along the Boardwalk trail.
I Know You, Stranger
By Lovie Nowak
Home is far away, for it lies across the ocean.
Observing a land of unfamiliar splendor,
For the first time, my eyes rest upon you.
Stranger, my heart tells me that I know your face quite well…
My love, my life! The man in my dreams who captures me under his spell.
That man is you, a man of passion, romance, devotion.
For years you’ve blessed my dreams, warm and tender.
I’ve always loved you but thought you were too perfect to be true.
Yet here you are, eyes locked with mine,
Lost in our one moment of bliss.
But now I must go home. Oh God, why this arrow through my heart?
The odds, my love, my soul, my friend,
Are that we shall not ever meet again.
But our love will vanquish the odds, or love of fate, our love divine.
Solitude will breathe its last, a foe that I shall never miss.
When our paths do meet again, I vow that never will we part.
I saw glory through God’s eyes!
By Erin Soto
And yet,
I willfully turned away
and settled my sights again
onto the ashes of ordinary life.
For who else has beheld
such grace,
such beauty,
but He and I?
For a moment in time
veils lifted and swirled
kaleidoscopically
(since you ask).
The sight of God and angels
not of comfort
but harbingers of loneliness
and silence.
A tangible thing-
a pressing presence
over this piece of earth
that lies next to
sound and sea,
dewdrop and blade,
over cattle and fence
star, and sky.
leaving me bereft
of His eternity.
Learning
By Cheryl Host
Learning is my drug, I am a knowledge junkie,
Give me a good book and you won’t be able to stop me!
Spelling is compelling, I win at every Bee,
History is no mystery, even through the centuries.
English Lit is like a hit, it comes as no surprise,
Dr. Seuss and Shakespeare, those are my “best guys”!
I’m such a mathematician, I’m almost a magician,
Geometry, Chemistry, Physics – all are so specific.
Geography, topography, traveling to new places,
Here and there and everywhere is my other hobby.
But Music is my jam, I can listen, sing and play,
Classic, blues or rock and roll, I feel them in my soul!
My season is short
By Tim McElligott
My season is short
and nearing its end.
Through it all
I could have come into being and gone
without notice from a single passerby.
Here, in the dark recesses I bloom
in shadows among the bramble
alone and wondering
where all the other flowers are
and why I should bother
adding my beauty to this hidden place.
But I know that my aesthetics
are not all I have to share.
The insects need me, after all.
So thank you for stopping
and taking notice of me.
Thank you for thinking me beautiful.
But do not think you made my day.
I made my own.
For who will notice you
before you have come into being and gone?
Neonatal
By Janna Smithson
Nervous stomach, sweaty hands
Wobbly knees, hard to stand.
I walked briskly, determined to see
What you looked like…
no longer part of me.
Little hands, feet scrunched tight.
My chest tightened at the sight.
So many machines and breathing tubes
But there was a smile when I touched you.
Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.
A love that only a mother knows.
The Beginning
By Celeste M Nelson
a long time ago before we were friends
i recognized an energy in you, a spirit about you
it drew me closer wanting to know, to learn about, maybe to share.
i guess it was the energy, the spirit in me that first recognized it in you.
at first the sparks – i wasn’t satisfied, i wanted more
there was so much to learn and i wanted to share so
as time evolved it became evident it was to be.
you and i – friends
my heart leapt – i was so happy, together we created such an energy,
a spirit that others took notice. It was contagious –
such a feeling spread quickly, uncontrollably at times.
That feeling has grown, the sparks have united into explosions.
it has survived sparse times yet it continues to grow
sometimes painful, but always rewarding, always grateful for that first sign –
the first spark, the energy, the spirit.
since then i have learned so much about you, about me – about us.
i have grown because of you – thank you.
i hope i have helped you grow too.
my wish for you, for me, for us – is that we continue to grow,
that the sparks ignite so they may spread to others –
only to return to their source richer than before.
thank you for that
first twinkle.
The Bridge
By Lennart Lundh
Some days, we will pass each other
on the road that leads both to
and away from the bridge of love.
In one subset of those days,
we will wave and pass a smile,
while in another no notice is shown.
Some days, a subset of the larger set,
we will miss each other entirely.
We will wonder if we can miss a heart
for which no name resides in memory.
With any luck at all, we’ll meet some day
upon the bridge, and stay for some days.
Three Red Cars Parked All In A Row
By Geri Magnuson
At the library that dull winter’s day,
I spied three red cars parked all in a row.
They grabbed my attention amid so much gray.
Snowy winter roads had left them salty.
A few dents and scratches had dulled their shine.
Older models were they, perhaps a bit faulty.
As I surveyed those surface scars
Out the door strolled three women
Headed toward the red cars.
Dressed in fuzzy hats and sensible shoes
With smiles on their faces and books in their arms
They giggled and hugged as they said their adieus.
I noted that older models were they
As they got in their red cars
And drove slowly away.
I lingered and pondered what it would mean
If those red cars could talk and tell the tales
Of the ladies who drove them and all they have seen.
Whale
Nancy Hodges
Very graceful
So mournful
Carrying the weight of the ocean
on its back
Overfishing
Too trashy
Wildlife dying
They need to band together
Show of force
There would be no match
Team whale!
all the way
Wishful thinking
If only . . .
Winter’s Chill
By Cathi Kadow
The cold air swirls around her, viciously attacking her coat.
She thinks about the hat, sitting home, alone.
Her scarf, up against her neck, hides beneath the coat.
This cold would not stop.
Fall had quietly left after Summer’s warm gaze.
Would Spring be here soon?
There was nothing now.
What had been, is now what has gone.
Would Spring bring back its blush of love,
Or was it gone for good?