LIMBERLOST VIEWS
~Inspired by Bill Hubbard's Photographs
Oriole
Little and yellow
mindful but lost
gliding through the clouds
By Lydia Shaffer
* * *
Swan on the lake
White, curved neck
Ice floats by
By Callie Shaffer
* * *
Monkey cry, a flash of red
Swooping through the trees
Pileated woodpecker
By Simon Brainerd
* * *
The Old Schoolhouse
crumbling walls
wood patched windows
I stand
empty
floor covered in greens
rotting wood planks
empty
I stand
By Emily Scase
* * *
Tiger swallowtail on
the purple flower
smelling the butterfly bush.
By Ella Shaffer
* * *
Bald Eagle
Bald Eagle creeped
feathers shadowed, banana nose
Perched on leaning tree
By Allisyn Scase
* * *
Swoop, glide, float
lovely white feathers
Tundra swan afloat
By Kaity Scase
* * *
The Sunset
Bright and bold
Orange and blue
Heavenly sunset to look to
By Abby Waymire
* * *
Cabin in the Dusk
As the lights flicker
at night the owl watches
them while they sleep
By Josiah Scase
TWELVE SNAPSHOTS OF LIMBERLOST CABIN
I remember the limestone fence
traveling around the house---
dirty, unique, and weird
to the human eye
but to cute, crawling creatures
it's a gateway to a world full of love.
* * *
I remember the old wood smoker---
like a small red fire extinguisher
or a red cylinder.
* * *
I remember the conservatory's
colossal windowpanes
with ferns and fluttering movement
all about.
* * *
I remember pink fragrant flowers
and,through the window, a tall oak tree.
* * *
I remember arrowheads painting
pictures of the past.
* * *
I remember skillful ceilings, artistic
designs leaping out of placid plaster.
* * *
I remember the elegant moths
of gorgeous colors
and delicate wings.
* * *
I remember the luna moth
captured in the moment
like a photograph of nature.
* * *
I remember the pictures of Gene,
Jeannette, and Charles, close family
frozen in time.
* * *
I remember Gene's painting
of blue irises where guests
would slumber when visiting.
* * *
I remember the glass doll rocking
near the fireplace in the sitting room.
* * *
I remember stories
like moths tucked into cocoons
waiting to hatch.
Collaborative Poem from Participants
In Shari Wagner's November 13 2019
Workshop for Kids "At Limberlost Cabin"
DAUGHTER OF MRS. PORTER
I remember the glass doll
rocking by the fireplace
in the sitting room.
I remember the playhouse
under the porch floor
sipping on tea in cups.
I remember Mom painting
watercolor pictures of caterpillars crawling through
the swampy grass.
I remember a screechy owl
flying through the window
to see the candle.
I was Jeannette.
By Ella Shaffer
THE SCREECH OWL
I remember.
I heard Gene talking to me in the midst of the night.
I thought about going in or not. Later I glided
softly though the window. I stared at the candle.
I realized I was trapped! Then in the morning
Gene took a picture of me while I was sleeping.
By Josiah Scase
FREEDOM
I am ready to get out.
My legs squishing together.
My wings aching to be free.
I started to scratch.
It feels as if a lifetime has passed.
I am ready to breathe.
Emerging
I am greeted by flashing lights.
And two round eyes.
By Lydia Shaffer
THE SURGEON'S SWORD
I am old, I am worn, I am blunt.
I am guilty.
As I gaze from my mantel, I begin to dull.
Am I guilty?
It becomes official,
The red stain, though washed off,
Lingers.
By Simon Brainerd
THE PIANO
Once, I was beautiful. My black and white dress shone
like the sun, reflecting off a lake. The young ones banged on me,
producing imperfect chords. Soon, the banging became music.
I sang the same songs. Christmastime was my favorite season.
I sang "Jungle Bells," "Silent Night," and "Away in a Manger."
Then, one by one, the little ones grew up and moved away.
I was alone in the house. Now, my only companions are the mice.
My once radiant dress now faded and dirty. My once beautiful voice
now out of tune. And yet, though my pedals are broken
and my spirit crushed, the memories of happier times live on.
By Callie Shaffer
THE MOTH
I remember when I was free
Flying through the night
No worries, carefree
But now I'm trapped
Trapped under a glass panel
My color slowly fading
My beauty still there but quickly disintegrating
I have been trapped for so many years
Just staring.
By Abby Waymire
MIGHTIEST OF SWORDS
Cabin in the wild swamp
Birds calling from the tree
Take the brick path to the cabin
See.
The rusted Civil War sword
Sitting on the mantle of the old brick fireplace
Look closely at the blade
Noting the memory of Charles D. Porter's dad
A Union Captain, a surgeon
Feel the symbolic, sharp, sword
Marking the furnace with self-respect
Peace.
Why leave a sword for us?
What does it mark?
Leaders become great not because of heir power but
Because of their ability to empower others.
A leader is one who knows the way
goes the way
Shows the way.
By Allisyn Scase
THE GUARDIAN
As I lay against the wall
I hear laughter traveling through the house
I see guests come and go
I watch over the sleeping body that lay in bed
The restless nights and calm ones
I saw them admire me, and I wonder if some fear me
I watch the humans put on their riches
The owls on the headboard stare at me
The moth lay between the owls in sleep
I feel like the guardian of the room
By Kaitlyn Scase
~Inspired by Bill Hubbard's Photographs
Oriole
Little and yellow
mindful but lost
gliding through the clouds
By Lydia Shaffer
* * *
Swan on the lake
White, curved neck
Ice floats by
By Callie Shaffer
* * *
Monkey cry, a flash of red
Swooping through the trees
Pileated woodpecker
By Simon Brainerd
* * *
The Old Schoolhouse
crumbling walls
wood patched windows
I stand
empty
floor covered in greens
rotting wood planks
empty
I stand
By Emily Scase
* * *
Tiger swallowtail on
the purple flower
smelling the butterfly bush.
By Ella Shaffer
* * *
Bald Eagle
Bald Eagle creeped
feathers shadowed, banana nose
Perched on leaning tree
By Allisyn Scase
* * *
Swoop, glide, float
lovely white feathers
Tundra swan afloat
By Kaity Scase
* * *
The Sunset
Bright and bold
Orange and blue
Heavenly sunset to look to
By Abby Waymire
* * *
Cabin in the Dusk
As the lights flicker
at night the owl watches
them while they sleep
By Josiah Scase
TWELVE SNAPSHOTS OF LIMBERLOST CABIN
I remember the limestone fence
traveling around the house---
dirty, unique, and weird
to the human eye
but to cute, crawling creatures
it's a gateway to a world full of love.
* * *
I remember the old wood smoker---
like a small red fire extinguisher
or a red cylinder.
* * *
I remember the conservatory's
colossal windowpanes
with ferns and fluttering movement
all about.
* * *
I remember pink fragrant flowers
and,through the window, a tall oak tree.
* * *
I remember arrowheads painting
pictures of the past.
* * *
I remember skillful ceilings, artistic
designs leaping out of placid plaster.
* * *
I remember the elegant moths
of gorgeous colors
and delicate wings.
* * *
I remember the luna moth
captured in the moment
like a photograph of nature.
* * *
I remember the pictures of Gene,
Jeannette, and Charles, close family
frozen in time.
* * *
I remember Gene's painting
of blue irises where guests
would slumber when visiting.
* * *
I remember the glass doll rocking
near the fireplace in the sitting room.
* * *
I remember stories
like moths tucked into cocoons
waiting to hatch.
Collaborative Poem from Participants
In Shari Wagner's November 13 2019
Workshop for Kids "At Limberlost Cabin"
DAUGHTER OF MRS. PORTER
I remember the glass doll
rocking by the fireplace
in the sitting room.
I remember the playhouse
under the porch floor
sipping on tea in cups.
I remember Mom painting
watercolor pictures of caterpillars crawling through
the swampy grass.
I remember a screechy owl
flying through the window
to see the candle.
I was Jeannette.
By Ella Shaffer
THE SCREECH OWL
I remember.
I heard Gene talking to me in the midst of the night.
I thought about going in or not. Later I glided
softly though the window. I stared at the candle.
I realized I was trapped! Then in the morning
Gene took a picture of me while I was sleeping.
By Josiah Scase
FREEDOM
I am ready to get out.
My legs squishing together.
My wings aching to be free.
I started to scratch.
It feels as if a lifetime has passed.
I am ready to breathe.
Emerging
I am greeted by flashing lights.
And two round eyes.
By Lydia Shaffer
THE SURGEON'S SWORD
I am old, I am worn, I am blunt.
I am guilty.
As I gaze from my mantel, I begin to dull.
Am I guilty?
It becomes official,
The red stain, though washed off,
Lingers.
By Simon Brainerd
THE PIANO
Once, I was beautiful. My black and white dress shone
like the sun, reflecting off a lake. The young ones banged on me,
producing imperfect chords. Soon, the banging became music.
I sang the same songs. Christmastime was my favorite season.
I sang "Jungle Bells," "Silent Night," and "Away in a Manger."
Then, one by one, the little ones grew up and moved away.
I was alone in the house. Now, my only companions are the mice.
My once radiant dress now faded and dirty. My once beautiful voice
now out of tune. And yet, though my pedals are broken
and my spirit crushed, the memories of happier times live on.
By Callie Shaffer
THE MOTH
I remember when I was free
Flying through the night
No worries, carefree
But now I'm trapped
Trapped under a glass panel
My color slowly fading
My beauty still there but quickly disintegrating
I have been trapped for so many years
Just staring.
By Abby Waymire
MIGHTIEST OF SWORDS
Cabin in the wild swamp
Birds calling from the tree
Take the brick path to the cabin
See.
The rusted Civil War sword
Sitting on the mantle of the old brick fireplace
Look closely at the blade
Noting the memory of Charles D. Porter's dad
A Union Captain, a surgeon
Feel the symbolic, sharp, sword
Marking the furnace with self-respect
Peace.
Why leave a sword for us?
What does it mark?
Leaders become great not because of heir power but
Because of their ability to empower others.
A leader is one who knows the way
goes the way
Shows the way.
By Allisyn Scase
THE GUARDIAN
As I lay against the wall
I hear laughter traveling through the house
I see guests come and go
I watch over the sleeping body that lay in bed
The restless nights and calm ones
I saw them admire me, and I wonder if some fear me
I watch the humans put on their riches
The owls on the headboard stare at me
The moth lay between the owls in sleep
I feel like the guardian of the room
By Kaitlyn Scase
RSS Feed
