Reading or writing poetry remains an idiosyncratic pastime, competing with television, video games and smart phones. But for those who embrace poetry for its economic structure and word selection, the benefits can be rewarding.

Some years ago, I purchased an anthology of poems to read and reflect whenever the urge arose. I found many of the poems both stimulating and enlightening. One poem in particular captured my fascination: Mule Team and Poster (1987) by Donald Justice (1927-2004.) It described the poet’s thoughts respecting a 1936 photograph of Walker Evans (1903-1975), a photojournalist during the Great Depression. The words brought more meaning to that photographic scene than any casual observation would have experienced.

Over our family room mantle hung a print of a bucolic, pastoral scene, into which I frequently immersed myself, pretending to stroll through the peaceful place and imagined surrounds. My frequent immersions led to writing a poem of my own, without formal training or experience. It produced a myriad of drafts, seeking the best words to describe my reverie. I tried rhyme, which added more complication and limited word selection, so I moved to free verse until my inner ear attuned to the syllables and word selection, and followed the advise of the French poet, Charles Baudelaire (1821—1867):

— “At its best, a poem is full of space and reverie.”

A framed print:
Hanging expressionless
Over the mantle place
For many years.

An accent piece:
Bought for color
Matching a decor
Long changed

A snapshot capturing:
The peaceful ambience
Of a less hectic world
In an earlier time,

Open fields, overgrown grass
Enticing a quiet walk
Along an ancient path
Leading to and from nowhere

Unfelt breezes
Whisk leaves askew
On bush and tree
To frame the background

A stone wall suggesting
Boundary and privacy
To a nearby house
White, cool and inviting

A treasure of tranquility:
Despite its inapt decor
Earning a revered place
For contemplative journeys

Whether my poem is any good or not matters little to me, as a rereading always transports me to a welcome, peaceful, relaxing place.

— “One of the best things about paintings is their silence, which prompts reflection and random reverie.” Mark Stevens (1916—1994)