Making of a Poet strikes a chord in all of us who enjoy writing-and reading-language which lifts our thoughts to dreams and hopes beyond the humdrum reality of life. When Deidre signed into a poetry course in junior high school, she found her perceptions and imaginings awakened to realms that widened her world to new enjoyment. Teachers and experiences in high school and college increased her appreciation of life and the world and friends about her. Recognition came in 1980 when "Self-Acceptance" appeared in Eddie Lou Cole's World Treasury of Great Poems, which also included "Time to Dream" by her aunt Olive Jean Hope. Deidre's verses have also appeared in Our Western World's Greatest Poems (1983), Best-Loved Contemporary Poems (1979), The Dawn of Inspiration (1999), and Our Twentieth Century's Greatest Poems (1982). Deidre continues to share life and inspiration with friends in "The Poetry Circle" of writers near her home in northern California. Her story can be your story too.

MAKING OF A POET

Reflections in VerseBy Deidre Alexander

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2012 Deidre Alexander
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4669-4548-7

Contents

Introduction.......................................viiiPublications I've Appeared In......................xForeword...........................................xiiOne: Junior High School............................1Two: Yosemite......................................11Three: Freshman English............................21Four: Views of the World...........................29Five: People I've Known............................35Six: Christ Enlightens My Life.....................49Seven: Abraham Lincoln.............................73Eight: Lost Loves..................................85Appendix...........................................90

Chapter One

Junior High School

Poetry was always "nice to hear", but writing it was challenging and exciting. Mrs. Sobin and Mrs. McCaig inspired me to try all the standard forms of rhymed and unrhymed verse. Here are examples from my class notes from the spring and fall of 1972.

Couplets: The Trip to Kibbie Lake On My Way to School

Limericks: Ten-Foot Turtle Man from the Moon Mysterious Hand Boy from Troy Little Young Pig Ten-foot Glider Teacher and Preacher

Cinquain: Dogs—Snow—Turtles

Haiku: Rain—Snow—People— Hands—Gardening—Feathers

Similes, Metaphors, Personification: Cat's Tail—twig yarn pencil garbage cans—barrels chewing gum under the counter—clay cement spring rain—waterfall drying up summer shower a freshly polished fender fresh dittos

      Couplets

    The Trip to Kibbie Lake

    Last night when I was doing dishes,
    I saw a lot of hungry fishes.

    I got my pole and went to the shore.
    I cast my line, and caught only four.

    I went back to camp to get ready for bed.
    I lost my way back, and,

    early next morning, I packed my way out.
    I soon got hungry, and ate the four trout.

    When I was out, I started for home.
    The car needed gas, so I stopped in Rome.

    "I did not enjoy it" some people say.
    Now I was sick, and died the next day.

    One morning on my way to school,
    I saw my brother fall in the pool.

    He shouted "Help", but noone heard.
    Most likely he drowned without a word.

    Along came a rescuer to save his death.
    When he got out, he took a big breath.


      Limericks

    There once was a ten-foot turtle
    who thought he had lost his girdle.
    He said with a roar,
    "I'll crawl to the store
    and get me another girdle."

    There once was a man from the moon
    who came down in his beautiful balloon.
    He started to sink
    and soon he turned pink
    and then headed back to the moon.

    There was a mysterious hand
    which reached from the sky for some sand.
    When it got there,
    it turned into hair,
    and then sang along with the band.

    There was a little boy
    who went to the island of Troy.
    When he got there,
    it was quite a scare,
    and all he found was one toy.

    There once was a little young pig
    who wanted to buy a nice wig.
    When he got there,
    the shelves were bare,
    and decided he would buy a twig.

    There was a ten-foot glider
    who happened to swallow a spider.
    She ate it with glee
    and landed in the sea
    and swallowed the sea inside her.

    There once was a teacher
    who chose to be a preacher.
    He started to pray,
    then he paused to say,
    "I'm glad I chose to be a preacher."


      Cinquain—Free Form

      DOGS

    Handy watchdogs
    Playing, growling, biting
    when intruders are near.
    Rough.


      SNOW

    Frozen rain
    Sliding, sledding, gliding
    when winter is here.
    Fun.


      TURTLES

    Boring pets
    Sleeping, eating, staring
    from morning to night.
    Slow.


      Haiku

    Rain on the window
    Dew belonging to the tree
    Sprinklers on the lawn.

    Snow on a hilltop
    Ice chilling pink lemonade
    Frozen rain on me.

    People in a store
    Only customers are here
    Piled high in clothing.

    Hands shaking my hands
    Treetops shaking off the dew
    Friends greeting people today.

    Working in the yard
    to grow plants and furnish food
    Farmers tilling soil.

    Feathers on a bird
    flapping away for dear life
    Airplanes in the air.

Similes, Metaphors, and Personification

A. cat's tail—twig yarn pencil

M. The cat's tail is a twig on a tree. S. The cat's tail is like a piece of yarn. P. The cat's tail made a frog with a magic wand.

B. garbage cans—barrels

M. Garbage cans are barrels of unwanted junk. S. The garbage cans are like barrels. P. The cans could smell from a mile away.

C. chewing gum under the counter—clay cement

M. The chewing gum is dried-up clay. S. The chewing gum under the counter is like cement. P. The chewing gum under a counter can be hazardous to your health.

D. spring rain—waterfall drying up summer shower

M. Spring rains are like summer showers. S. Spring rain is like a summer shower. P. The spring rain whispered to the wind.

E. a freshly polished fender

M. A freshly polished fender is a mirror on the wall. S. A freshly polished fender is like a silver piece. P. A freshly polished fender said "I am shinier than you are!"

F. Fresh dittos

M. Fresh dittos are a kind of perfume. S. Fresh dittos are like perfume. P. Fresh dittos gave us our homework assignment.

G. finger tips from washing dishes

M. Fingertips from washing dishes are S. Your fingertips are like a wrinkled old lady. P. My fingertips swam around in the pool.

H. the first sunny day

M. The first sunny day was a blessing. S. The first sunny day was like a pleasant dream. P. The first sunny day entered our world.

Chapter Two

Yosemite

During the springtime of 1977, my high school attended the Yosemite Institute, where Terri Frontera pointed out the remarkable features of this landscape. I wrote the first three Yosemite poems during quiet times "on scene" and the others in the summer of 1978.

    Walking in the Woods near Crane Flat
    By Yosemite Creek
    Yosemite Valley Beyond Mirror Lake
    Kibbie Lake
    Eleanor Lake


      Walking in the Woods near Crane Flat

    Tis a quiet moment on a cloudy day.
    The stream is flowing along the way.

    Trees of many kind can be seen:
    firs and cedars and evergreen.

    Though this place seems so vast,
    tales and treasures exist from the past.

    Though the pond was full of creatures,
    it is not one of the park's main features.

    A robin can be heard from a nearby tree:
    one example that our spirits are free.

    Here I am, perched on a hill.
    All except the wind, is still.

    The sun begins to shine in the sky
    and then comes the cry
    of birds and insects hunting for food,
    while wood is being chewed.

    Though I would rather be indoors,
    it's fun to explore valleys and moors.

    This is the turning point of our hike.
    We proceed from the turnpike
    to the lookout to view the whole park
    before it becomes cold, gray, and dark.
    After 45 minutes, we reach the top
    for a well-earned stop.

    After a lecture from a lookout attendant,
    we start to head back to where the road bent.

    As soon as I returned to camp,
    I ended this poem under the light of a lamp.


      By Yosemite Creek

    Tis a peaceful moment on a day that shines bright,
    while the nearby stream bubbles white.

    Green can be seen all around,
    while birds fly and squirrels can be found.

    The rocks that can be seen in the stream below
    have their own luminous glow.

    Found in the water was a can and a left shoe,
    left by some man from a past year or two.

    Though passed by many to see Yosemite Falls,
    the forest contains many of nature's calls.

    Whether you are a tourist or not,
    I think you will find this place not too hot

    For the stream is a place where you can wash your feet,
    or just relax away from the heat
    by a tree where you can see a gap in the mountains
    where Yosemite Falls is like two fountains.

    Because you are off the trail and out of view,
    my spot has been used by just a few
    for thinking of nature
    with no contemplature.

    I hope that I will come here again
    to admire the beauty not disrupted by men.


      Yosemite Valley Beyond Mirror Lake

    Perched on an overhang on a cloudy day,
    one can see birds, including the jay.

    Directly across is Snow Creek Falls
    with trees growing along the valley walls.

    To my right is a fall like the other.
    When asked to scale the side, I said "Oh, brother!"

    In this place I feel at home
    with views of North and Basket Dome.

    Beside me, trees and moss abound.
    Even lichen, can be found.

    Though few people come this far,
    it feels like you are following a wandering star
    to valleys that are green
    and wildlife in their natural habitat can be seen.

    The rocky slope across the way
    could mean a glacier came through someday
    to carve out the valley as it now appears
    for we, the people, to enjoy for years.


      Kibbie Lake

    Sitting by Kibbie Lake with the sky a clear blue,
    I watch the wind's ripples give it a luminous hue.

    Straight across from where I sit,
    the mountain I see is mostly granite.

    The trees on the right are mostly green,
    through one gap was where we had been
    when we first saw the lake,
    and knew, we had made a mistake.

    So, to get down below,
    we went cross-country to a meadow.

    At the first campsite,
    we said "This will do for tonight!"

    We had not gone as far as we had wanted.
    The place seemed haunted
    because there was a deer
    who showed no fear
    of us.

    Plus,
    he followed us wherever we went.
    On his way, he sniffed around someone's tent
    to see if he could find a morsel to eat,
    while they were relaxing away from the heat.

    Then, when they went for a swim,
    the deer followed him.

    When we left on Sunday morn,
    the deer felt forlorn,
    for he had stayed with us all along,
    and sensed something was wrong.

    What he could not realize was that we could not stay.
    We did not live here, but by the San Francisco Bay.


      Eleanor Lake

    I sit and watch the wind blow the water over the rocks
    and realize
    that only two years ago I would have walked five minutes
    before I reached the water's edge.

    On a rock now below twenty feet of water,
    I had reeled in my biggest catch:
    a fourteen-inch trout;
    which struggled five minutes to free itself, before dying.

    Instead of looking over barren rocks,
    you look straight at trees,
    to the mountain on the other side:
    proof that the drought is over.

    Three ranges of mountains can be seen
    if you look through the gap
    to your right, above the dam,
    green is all around.

    It is very peaceful,
    not like home,
    for here there is no smog
    and plenty of room!

Chapter Three

Freshman English

My interest continued at UC Davis in "English 5P", taught by Brent Duffin, where I wrote eight poems, six of which are in this section.

The other two poems—"Christ's Teachings" and "My Freshman Roommate Janice"—appear in the sections Christ Enlightens My Life and People I've Known.

    Freedom
    Full Moon Fantasies?
    Searching ...
    Another World
    Summer
    Eggs


      Freedom

    The wind gives one a sense of feeling free
    to fly like a bird, or climb up a tree.

    Freedom and solitude are what one seeks
    as one rides to the creeks
    to watch the ducks swim and birds fly
    and wonder why
    the areas are changing
    and rearranging.

    Our sense of freedom today
    is not the same as yesterday
    as a result of growth,
    technological advances, or both.

    If we are as careful as we were in the past,
    the beauty around us will last
    for others to enjoy,
    not destroy.


      Full Moon Fantasies?

    On a calm spring night
    while the moon shone full,
    a noise came from afar—
    faint, yet distinct.

    Listening closer one could hear the sound.
    It was not the cry of a bird or someone speaking,
    but a pay phone ringing!

    Should you answer it?
    Yes, if your curiosity so inclines you
    to know who is calling, or if it is a prank.
    But, should you decide not to answer it,
    do not be superstitious.

    Many strange things have been known
    to happen when there is a full moon.


      Searching ...

    Forsaken and friendless,
    family troubles
    have tested me.
    Yet,

    You uphold the spirit,
    guide nomads like I
    along the road to eternity.
    Though

    time meanders on,
    answers to questions
    are plain to see.
    But,

    there remains facts,
    not interpretable now,
    that soon will be,
    understood.


      Another World

    Beyond the black railing on the roof of a dorm,
    light blue sky and scattered cirrus clouds
    open their gates-
    to the unknown above.

    There, stands a man bowing,
    who asks what I seek.
    Truth!

    Is there another chance for me to show
    my knowledge to others and to share beliefs?
    Destiny predetermined,
    upon paradise's doorstep,
    waiting
    to know the answers
    which common faith, and trust,
    will unveil.


      Summer

    As summertime approaches, the days extend,
    until there are just nine hours without light.
    Each day is different than the one just past.
    The weather very seldom moderates—
    except, when ocean winds are forced inland
    by pressure systems in the atmosphere
    to cool the surroundings in which we live.
    Days go by too fast for us to enjoy
    each minute that the sun shines. Time goes by.
    Before we realize it, summer ends.
    Vacations are cut short in the middle.
    But, soon enough, it will be summer again.


      Eggs

    Eggs
    oval-shaped
    Usually white or brown
    At Easter though, they are sometimes painted for Easter baskets.

    Eggshells
    crack upon breaking
    to reveal the inner contents to the shell breaker.
    Boiled eggs, fried eggs, poached eggs, scrambled eggs
    each have their own distinct attraction to the consumer.

    Eggs
    cold from the refrigerator
    ready to use for breakfast or in baking.

    Eggs
    after they are cooked
    are ready to be sampled
    with, or without, the addition of spices.

Chapter Four

Views of the World

Section four includes poems about some of my hobbies during my early college years, plus my changing perspective on the world-at- large.

"Since I Left School" was written after I withdrew from UC Davis to seek employment. "Alone" was based on living alone in San Jose State's on-campus dormitories for part of a semester. My roommate at the time—Cynthia Cedarholm—had chosen to withdraw from school for personal reasons.

    Rowing Down the Russian River
    Since I Left School
    Alone
    SJSU Bowling


      Rowing Down the Russian River

    Rowing down the Russian River in a canoe
    at times was scary.
    In our boat were only two—
    which made us more wary

    of approaching rapids—and other boats.
    As I leaned the wrong way, we turned upside down.
    Our plastic bags became floats—
    our faces bore a frown—

    as the others passed us by.
    We struggled for awhile.
    On the third try,
    we were ready to set out—in style!

    As the day went on,
    we got more burnt.
    We also had to con
    someone to teach us what they had learnt.

    We could not row straight
    because we did not know how.
    Me and my mate know now!

    Experience is all it takes
    to learn something new.
    By making mistakes,
    you learn the right thing to do.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from MAKING OF A POETby Deidre Alexander Copyright © 2012 by Deidre Alexander. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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