“How shall we amuse you; let us count the ways….”
Poetry is something we were exposed to in only bare measure during our formative years, since we pursued a path in science and engineering for our formal education. Sure, our Mother would often say “Blessings on thee, O little man; barefoot boy with cheeks of tan.” Not to mention “snips and snails and puppy-dog tails; that’s what little boys are made of.”
But in our vast personal library, which now numbers more volumes than we can count on our fingers, we’ve yet to find a book of poetry. It is true that we had a fling with Sonnets to the Portuguese in early adulthood, and that our wedding bands are inscribed with ‘to live with thee, and be thy love.’
Strange, then, that our senses were recently awakened to the charms of poetic verse. For the Christmas season, we had loaded up our flash drive with a number of Christmas Albums, including a couple of Frank Sinatra specials. We used the drive to provide holiday tunes in our truckster as we traveled far and wide.
Side became enamored of Sinatra’s rendition of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” and found it very moving. When we read the liner notes, we were surprised to discover the song was based on a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who is especially well known in Brunswick and Maine. You can listen for yourself right here:
Here is that poem:
Christmas Bells
I HEARD the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."
Even now, we can’t read the words without following the melody of the Sinatra carol.
The more we heard the song, the more our imagination got away from us. That teensy-weensy little corner of our intellect that meddles in creative madness began to adapt the words (with melody intact) to a topic of more immediate and local concern.
We’ve labored long and hard, but not too hard, to bring our variation on the theme to you. Please be gentle on us as you review it; this is our first time publishing original verse.
We hope you’ve taken the time to listen to the music above. And that you keep the melody in your head as you read our verse. It will be ever so much more lyrical if you do.
(Watch out for ear-worms; they afflicted us for some time.)
Ode to the Budget Trolls; a Variation on Christmas Bells
By Poppy Littleworth Oddfellow
I HEARD the drones at budget time
Their old, familiar verses chime.
They stood to say
You all must pay
To prove you love the chil-der-en!
And thought how, as the days had come,
The belfries of all Brunswickdom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of spending more on chil-der-en!
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The town repeated night and day,
A voice, a plea,
Oh please tax me
For brand new schools for chil-der-en!
Then with a solemn, sudden boom,
A cannon thundered in the room,
In statements read
Faint voices said
This is not for the chil-der-en!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The schoolies born
Of spending more on chil-der-en!
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is a lie in town," I said;
With guile intact,
They hide the fact
This is for women and for men!"
Town Council then gave schoolies cheer:
"Spend what you want, we're standing clear."
The schools you’ll build,
The lilies gild,
"Praise us! We love the chil-der-en!"
It may not be that good; but on the other hand, it could have been verse.
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