MY SONG
Wanda Weiskopf I llustrat ed by LaVonn e Taylo r
MY SONG By Wanda Weiskopf
Illust rated by LaVon ne T aylor
Published by Excellence Enterprises
Copyright Š 2008 by Wanda Weiskopf All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, without prior written permission of the publisher. No patent liability is assumed with respect to the use of the information contained herein. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
Dedication
First Edition Dedicated to my daughter Marta, who has her own song, to my son ISBN: 978-0-9627735-4-9
Doug who marches to his own drummer, and most of all, to my deceased husband, Herbert, with whom I still walk in my dreams.
Published by Excellence Enterprises 3040 Aspen Lane Palmdale, CA 93550-7985 lavonne.taylor@sbcglobal.net
CONTENTS
CONTENTS
MY SONGS
NATURE
My Song
1
The Source
Song of the Native American Song of the Sea
3
A Fire in the Sky
5
Life Scale
7
Song of the Universe
9
Birth of a Song
15
Historic Flight The Shanksville Saga
37 39 41 43
The Mountain
45
MY LIFE 19
Stand Off at Stevenson Ranch Go Green!
A Walk in the Woods
Sounds
HEROES Sacajawea
35
The Eagle and I 13
September Song
33
Nature Heals Its Scars Spring
11
Tree Planting Song
31
21
23 25
Childhood
49
Little Bird
50
The Reader
53
The Secret One
55
The Apartment
57
Feelings 27
59
At the End of the Day The Dream BIOGRAPHIES
61 63 66
MY SONGS
MY SONG The generations come and go like waves upon the shores of time, and I must make my lonely mark by writing words that sing and rhyme.
SONG OF THE NATIVE AMERICAN For many long years we lived in harmony with earth and animals. The buffalo gave us food as we hunted with arrows and our sure-footed ponies. We followed the long trail of the ever-moving herds as they searched for grass. Their hides gave us warmth as we sat by our campfires and communed with our brothers. When the white men came they brought guns and wars to forever change our ways. During the Great Plains winter many died at Wounded Knee. the Nation was broken and scattered.
SONG OF THE SEA On peaceful days my white-tipped waves reach to touch the drifting clouds and feel their airy breath. On stormy nights my frenzied swells crash on shore with violent force and leave debris behind. For I am never still ~ my ever-changing tides sing of light and dark with sun and moon my guides.
LIFE SCALE I wish to write a special poem to end all poems ~ to explore life and even death from womb to tomb, but the scope seems too wide ~ Where to start, How to finish? I shall sing a scale and let the notes rise and fall with my breath ~ A poem without words.
SONG OF THE UNIVERSE One S ong The song I sing echoes through the eons of time and space. The galaxies and planets hum their lyric cadenzas and the spinning earth vibrates with myriad diverse harmonies yet all is in rhythm and each note a part of the over-arching hymn of creation.
BIRTH OF A SONG The song I write Comes from deep within ~ I do not know Where the notes begin Or when the words Begin to form That are spilling forth Like an April storm! I can only rush For paper and pen And write down the song When it comes again!
TREE PLANTING SONG Plant a tree for you and me and all the neighborhood. Watch it grow and you will know that you did something good! Trees give shade, enhance the earth and help to clean the air. Their branches give us shelter and peace and beauty everywhere. So plant a tree for you and me and those across the land who love and care for earth and air and need a helping hand.
SEPTEMBER SONG I wonder, where did summer go As golden September rolls along. The sunny days grow shorter now ~ We soon will hear old winter’s song. The seasons somehow seem to blur And time goes faster as we age ~ For travelers reading the book of life Each year becomes a turning page.
HEROES
SACAJAWEA American Heroine Through plains and mountains she led the long way facing hunger and danger each precarious day. During the long journey she even gave birth and reached the great waters giving proof of her worth. Her role in the journey of Lewis and Clark will leave in our history an indelible mark!
STAND-OFF AT STEVENSON RANCH John Quigley fought for many days to save the old oak tree. The stand-off continued, day and night and was covered on national TV. He chained himself with a strong lock box and wrapped his arms around the mighty trunk of the proud old oak that stubbornly hugged the ground. From November one, the battle waged till after the new year came. Then one dark night, the men and machines moved quietly to end the game! John Quigley rode the ladder down as watchers stood helplessly by. He sadly waved to those around who cheered a hero’s try! For 400 years, that proud Old Glory lifted each shimmering branch but one dark night, a freeway prevailed in the stand-off at Stevenson Ranch!
GO GREEN! Life is a journey One day at a time ~ Sometimes without reason At times, without rhyme. John Quigley taught us To hold fast and strong If we know in our hearts Our opponents are wrong! The earth is our treasure To cherish and screen ~ If at times undecided We must always Go Green!
HISTORIC FLIGHT Seared forever into the universal psyche, A gleaming vapor trailed across the turquoise Of an early-morning cloudless southwest sky. In graceful arc and spewing troubled metal The dying shuttle sparkled like an eerie Fourth of July rocket in a final crescendo Falling on a shocked and breathless earth. Seven souls were given a final quantum boost On their inter-planetary flight to eternity!
THE SHANKSVILLE SAGA Flight 93 In grassy fields the winds blow strong as if to right a grievous wrong and restless souls who gave their all demand respect when we recall heroic deeds of those who died defending freedom as they cried “Lets Roll!�
NATURE
THE SOURCE I walked on a lonely remote beach as a golden sun was slowly sinking beneath a distant gleaming horizon and I wondered at the full enormity of this huge encompassing universe and such a small entity as myself. I breathed deeply the cool moist air of a slowly enveloping starry night and suddenly, I was not as separate from the world that surrounded me but seemingly a part of everything ~ The universe and I shared one source!
A FIRE IN THE SKY I watched a luminescent sun setting in the evening sky through billowy white clouds as the daylight began to die. And suddenly, the far horizon became a spectacular scene ~ white clouds turned to orange around their heavenly queen. The evening breezes quivered in homage to the fiery sight as darkness slowly descended and daylight turned to night.
NATURE HEALS ITS SCARS In summer heat The fires arrive To devastate the hills And take away The greening lush That winter rain instills. After the fires The hills are brown And all the wildlife gone Till nature sends The rain to soak Each waiting hill and lawn.
A WALK IN THE WOODS My summer day is waning As the sunset softly glows ~ The coming night is greeted By a flock of noisy crows. The little furry creatures All hurry to find their dens For a quiet owl is watching With its own nocturnal lens! A path is hard to follow When the light is growing dim And I cannot see the edges Of a near-by canyon’s rim! So farewell lovely forest ~ When I return in Spring You can give me wild flowers And my heart will pause to sing!
SPRING Spring is for lovers Who see life renewed As nature awakens When earth is imbued With garlands of forests For birds on the wing And soft scented breezes That make our hearts sing! Spring is for old ones Who live day by day Not knowing when life Will be fading away And spring is for children Who wade in the streams That flow through the meadows And carry their dreams!
THE EAGLE AND I I walked in the dense forest and the trees spoke to me. They spoke of endless time and growth and stillness. The restless leaves whispered of a secret I might learn. I walked on a deserted beach and the white waves clamored at my bare feet, enticing me to wade in their curling foam and listen to the playful wind, which sang of stars and eternity. I climbed to the mountain’s craggy peak, breathing deeply, and the silence spoke to me. I called out to a nearby eagle gliding on soft currents of air. The eagle and I were as one!
SOUNDS I hear the sounds of the universe like whispers from deepest space ~ atoms smashing against atoms, the spinning of distant galaxies. I am part of the sound both within and without and I become the sound rushing through veins and bones like a musical waterfall. Perhaps if I release my attachment to the precarious realm of reality I can enter the quiet, still pool waiting to receive such turbulence.
THE MOUNTAIN Must my life be cluttered with unimportant things and all the trivialities that daily living brings? Rather would I live freely upon the mountain peak ~ communing there with nature in the solitude I seek. I would dance beneath the aspen through some lofty rainbow door then rest upon a craggy rock and watch the eagle soar! I would revel in wild flowers that grow in such profusion or hide in patches of fog that come with soft intrusion. I would feel the sun upon my face, a warm and vital force, and sing and smile the time away till life had run its course.
MY LIFE
CHILDHOOD I remember That wood-sprite child hunting mushrooms in the squishy earth along the river’s muddy banks where they could lie well hidden in the long grass or close beside a rotted log. It was Depression time and my father took his hunting rifle, for food was needed, but though I learned to shoot tin cans, I never could bear to kill the timid forest creatures or the shy quail that rose in flight, so vulnerable, silhouetted against the brilliant sky.
LITTLE BIRD The birds outside made such a chatter I looked out the window to see what was the matter. A wee baby bird was learning to fly with mamma and papa bird anxious, close by. It flew through the air but close to the ground, hitting walls and shrubbery with a soft chirping sound. I looked down the block and saw with dismay a lean old cat that was coming our way. “Oh no!� I gasped, as I seized the broom, and all in a panic ran out of the room.
Well, I gave that old cat a right solid whack and I knew in my heart he would never come back. Then the wee baby bird flew high and free till he landed quite safely on the branch of a tree. With a sigh of relief as the racket diminished, I returned to my house for the crisis was finished.
THE READER Thoughts go rushing through my mind Like a sparkling mountain stream Where I could sit on a grassy bank And find the time to dream. The pace of life is truly fast In this very modern age, But I would like to read a book And enjoy it page by page!
THE SECRET ONE Hidden deep beneath the shadows of my soul There lies the secret one for whom I search, For as an actor plays each complex role, I have so many I’s which quietly perch Like blackbirds close within my conscious mind And gulp the thirsty thoughts that must emerge To seek the misty light and leave behind The many facets which I wish to purge. As one by one the layers fall away, I know not what the stripping will expose, But as a cavern, hidden from the brightest day, Unfolds its mysteries as farther the lantern goes, I find the truth revealed which does exist If we but have enduring patience to insist.
THE APARTMENT Three little rooms are my domain absorbing my joy, reflecting my pain. There are sheltering walls where I sleep at night and awaken to greet the morning light. I never feel lonely in my own little space with books to read at my very own pace. There is TV to watch ~ either movies or news and commentators expressing their views! I live like a queen in calmness and grace ~ a member elite of the human race!
FEELINGS Our deepest feelings are never easy to express ~ They ride a narrow ledge inside the mind And tend to hide, so one cannot address Their keen realities; therefore, each must find Not words without meaning to either speak or write But meaning without words to give by thoughtful glance; For everyone contains the chord which might Reverberate when reached, and thus enhance The life of both the touched and the giving one Who breathed the thought that stretched from soul to soul And sang the silent note that soared and spun A web to snare the heart, its one true goal. Thus do feelings link our lives if shared; They touch and make us know that someone cared.
AT THE END OF THE DAY At the end of the day Have I called a friend Or sent my regards To a soul on the mend? At the end of the day Have I petted the cat That lives in the patio And is old and fat? At the end of the day As I listen to news Have I mailed my vote And expressed my views? At the end of the day Before going to sleep Have I asked the Lord My soul to keep?
THE DREAM I shall surely walk once more Beside the mountain stream Where once I walked with you And shared a golden dream. I shall walk again by lakes And lofty aspen groves Where eagles call their mates And the mighty black bear roves. I shall walk this time alone And wish that you were there ~ That we could dream again And have a life to share.
May goodness and mercy follow you all the days of your life.
Illustrator LaVonne Taylor has had a long and eclectic career in publishing. She filled many roles early in her profession in the newspaper industry, after which she worked as project editor for the educational arm of McGraw-Hill with specialties in health, art, and music. Following that, she did a nine-year stint as a writer of news articles, copy chief, and associate managing editor for Shape magazine. Taylor operates a micropublishing company, Excellence Enterprises, which has published LA My Way, a poetry and short story anthology; On the Wings of Song, a biography; and is publishing a startup literary quarterly, The Taylor Trust: Poetry & Prose, with the premier issue to debut in January of 2009. As is often the case with many creative people, however, she not only enjoys working with words, she also expresses herself through the visual arts, as shown in this publication and on the cover of Wings. A strong believer in caring for Planet Earth, she is an animal rights advocate and hopes in the not-too-distant future to open an animal sanctuary. She believes in protecting flora and the environment at large as well. Taylor nurtures three cats, three desert turtles, a sulcata tortoise and many, many plants on the high desert of Southern California.
Author Wanda Weiskopf has written poetry since her childhood in Missouri, where her “baseball” poems were regularly read over the statewide radio network of the St. Louis Cardinals. Her first collection of poems All Is Not Winter, received high critical praise, while her second book, a memoir of her life with the maestro Herbert Weiskopf, On the Wings of Song: My Life with the Maestro, published in 1995, has received rave reviews. In 2001 Wanda published her second poetry collection entitled Listen to the River. Mrs. Weiskopf feels connected to Native Americans because her grandmother was one-quarter Osage Indian. The poet’s grandfather (a Civil War veteran) and her grandmother traveled by covered wagon to Missouri, where they built their home. Wanda lives in Burbank, California near her daughter Marta, who sings and life coaches; son-in-law Kreigh Hampel, a Burbank city official; and grandson Alder Hampel, who is a martial arts teacher of jujitsu. Granddaughter Virginia Weiskopf, the seven-year-old illustrator of The Little Brown Bear and Other Christmas Poems, a recently published poetry chapbook composed by Wanda, lives with her father Doug in Ohio and draws, swims, and plays soccer.
Book and cover design: LaVonne Taylor Poetry pages typeset in Monotype Corsiva, other pages in Times New Roman. Printed and bound in the United States by AV Printing in Palmdale, California.