Blog 1062 – 07.23.2918

A Walk In The Park With Poets

Sunday morning, today as I write this, I took a walk in the park, the Royal Oaks RV Park in Bemidji, Minnesota, my home for probably the next several months. Old school writer and poet that I am I took a pen and a a bit of paper to jot down an idea for today’s blog. I sometimes get such a flow of ideas that I have written several days ahead on my blog but I prefer to write more currently and my journalism classes in high school and my well developed college habit or cranking out term papers, doing all nighters the day before they were due, contribute to my belief in spurts of deadline induced creativity, necessity being the sweet mother of invention so to speak.

I have known several fellow poets in my life

And I would like to write about them all

But for the sake of space and your rat race

I will of only Susan, Andrew, JRR, and Paul.

The bit of paper would not hold all this. But, I remembered I had my I-Phone with me and could just sit in a glider at the campground fire ring and start this blog here and now. But I will be back at it shortly after I finish my walk.

Now I feel better, after my walk, a bathroom break, a shower, and a shave. Of the writer/poets that have moved me most I would like to tell you about four. Susan and I were in Journalism 1 class together as Juniors in high school and as such in addition to our study in class were reporters for the high school newspaper. In our Senior year in Journalism 2 we were promoted to Co-Editorial Editors. We were good friends as well and both poets, both nominated for class poet, and the better poet won, Susan.

In college in Houston, Texas I met Andrew James Mitchell from Sidney, Australia, and just to hear him say his name in his native accent was poetry enough and he had his pick of the girls. They were all mesmerized by his accent. About the same time or shortly after I met Andrew I began reading the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, first The Hobbit, then The Lord Of The Rings, all three thick volumes, and afterwards everything published in his name. Those who have only seen the movies and are not familiar with the books are not aware how sprinkled his writings are with original poetry.

The last of the four poets I promised to mention, if ever so briefly, is Paul V. Cannon, another Aussie brother, “Mate” that I have gotten to know through his blog “parallax by pvcann” on Word Press. His clipped, cunning, and clever prose poetry is inspired and indeed an inspiration. I have long wished to see Australia to see my friend Andrew on his home turf and now I have yet another reason, another mate, and other part of that wide and beautiful country that I look forward to getting to see someday.

Like my brother Paul, whenever I can arrange a walk in the deep woods I am reminded that I am not just a lover of women but of the one woman in particular, Mother Earth, and with all my heart I celebrate her marriage to Father Sky and for myself and all their children I breath this poem and prayer:

May we, every creature, this great good earth knows

Have flowers and bird song wherever he or she goes.

Your friend and fellow traveler,

David White