In early March Jerod Santek, head of Write On Door County asked me, would I want to write a poem to go with a piece of music for the Midsummer Music Festival. Of course! A merger of music and poetry in the height of summer, in the midst of a live musical performance. Irresistible!
The hitch though, no research allowed on the music or the composer. Research is one of my favorite aspects of writing so this “wing it” approach felt challenging. I secretly hoped the music wouldn’t be by Hindemith or a little known 21st century composer. Jerod sent along the music files and to my joy, it definitely sounded like Mozart. I listened to the three movements a few times and then jotted down my first impressions. It was a grey March day and the ebullient birdsong quality of the music didn’t match the dull weather, but I kept listening and dreaming.
Once luscious July arrived, the weather aligned to the musical feel and tone and I spent a week taking those early notes and creating a three movement structure. The prevailing image the music inspired was of a whimsical girl riding a tandem bike, empty back seat, with a young man chasing her down. From this subject, all the colors and qualities began to flow. I don’t write poetry with a formalistic governance, but rather enjoy a fluid, cascading approach. The words spill and I look for vividness and motion that conceptualize the main images. This creative process originated with my photographs and the poem they inspire, visible on Instagram @seasonedpoetess.
The final result… a frolic, a rollicking piece to compliment the music. What a joy to share it with ardent music lovers sitting in the pews of Hope Church. Although my poem was inspired by what I thought was certainly Mozart, it was Wranitsky’s Sextet in Eflat, a contemporary of his, music provided at the link.I have never been asked to sign a piece of my poetry in a program, that was a first! A fine gentleman complemented my on my use of trochaic verse and I assured him it was not deliberate, just a dance of words that found their rhythm. Enjoy.
Come Reel With Me
I.
Like a bumblebee in hot pursuit
of pollen, that magic flower juice,
I spied you in the garden of Waseda Farms
when summer heat kept pressing on.
You spun your nasturtium web
while dodging my peek-between-tomatoes head.
Your barefeet and feathered dress,
snagged a raspberry cane,
whose fruit you plucked and lips caressed.
I tried to hide, remain unseen,
like Puck, the “shrewd and knavish sprite,”
a flitting fairy in deep moonlight.
Might we tend this garden forever,
water, weed, and dance together?
Alas, you climbed into a van,
motored long down Logerquist Lane,
I stood alone on the searing street,
hand out-stretched,
with earnest hopes that we might meet.
II.
Waves methodically drove ashore,
I wandered beaches, sought general stores.
Each coffee stop and cup of tea
opined my lack of company.
The aching metronomic beat
accompanied forget-me-not thoughts
of those dew-tickled feet,
kept tempo by my restless heart,
bewitching queen of flowers and art.
III.
When one fading summer day
when daisy chains drifted far away,
I saw her pedal by abreast
a tandem bike, back seat at rest.
My flashing feet sped up the hill
to chase that flying redhead still,
With one bold breath, I screamed,
She turned to stare. I stopped. She beamed.
“Climb aboard my chariot quick,
I’ll usher you into a wood so thick,
Bjorklunden is my name,
birches by the water
some say I tame.”
We pedaled hard, we pedaled slow
we danced a reel
beneath moon glade glow.
Her white flesh glinted,
soft shadows laid low
upon mossy beds,
entwined, our branches grow.