Friendship, nostalgia, and natural beauty emerged as dominant themes at the Eighth†Annual Northeast Texas Poetry Contest and Reading, which was recently held in the Whatley Center at Northeast Texas Community College. †The yearly contest encourages participants to accent or enliven our collective sense of the culture and history of Northeast Texas.
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A three-year winner of this contest, Angela Wylie, a teacher of Winnsboro ISD, again defended her crown as the ?poet laureate of Northeast Texas.? †This year her poem,†?Gramp?s Barn? impressed hearers with whispering alliterations that sounded almost like the wind against the desolate edifice she described. Wylie, who specializes in†efforts to resurrect abandoned memories, imagined the past of ?silvered soft? weathered wood, rusty spiked nails, and stained leather harnesses.
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The student winner, Presidential Scholar, Cailee Davidson, from Upshur County, condensed ten hours of nocturnal observation into a poignant, 240-word poem. †In her†work, the ?beautiful chaos? of the evening sky--with fabled entrances of gem-like stars and the vertiginous morning sun--provides assurance of the Creator?s infinite†wisdom.
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Other poems emphasized a quality of friendship that persists in the less haggard culture of our region. Second-place student winner, Elizabeth Griffin, admitted that her†love of theatre is causing her to look beyond the area. But she also feels a kinship not only to the people but to the state of Texas, and the creeks and pines of its†northeastern corner. An appreciation for nature?s enduring legacy in Northeast Texas also marked the second-place adult poem by Frankie King. Third and fourth place†student winners Emmalea Shaw, and Presley McClendon, intensified experiences of companionship with references to bridal-white dogwood trees, and the soft inner bark†of mimosa.
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Two local attorneys enlivened the Reading with observations about the community and its relation to the state. Billy Wayne Flanagan recalled the remarkable support he†received from friends in the area in 2002, when the statistical estimates of physicians would have left him dead, twice. Mark Lesher noted that in a day when many fear†the encroachments of the American state, that there is a tradition of Supreme Court decisions that still guarantee our liberties.
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Chuck Hamilton, Anna Ingram, and Jim Swann, all from NTCC, served as judges for the contest.
Below are the top†poems:
Student Winner:† Cailee Davidson
Northeast Texas Sky
In the twilight everything begins falling quiet,
Only the croak of a frog slices through the silence,
Trees drooping from exhaustion of a long day,
Sleeping, dreaming, reviving, renewing,
An invisible new moon selfishly guarding its light.
Then, a single pinpoint of light protrudes the darkness,
Shining bright against the endless background.
It seems lonely, one luminous body in the dark abyss.
Suddenly, the one is joined by a twin off in the west.
One by one, slowly, the night sky fills with balls of light.
Gazing through the mighty pines, twinkling stars burn brightly
Like millions of diamonds glistening in the night,
Everyone knowing its rightful place set by our Creator -
Some in patterns telling stories of ancient warriors;
Others, scattered in a beautiful chaos.
As night draws to an end, another miraculous scene appears.
Towards the East, a faint orange glow begins to appear,
No more than a shimmer of light at first,
But within minutes, the shimmer transforms into a breathtaking view.
Color bursts through the clouds and stains the Eastern sky with morning light.
Pink, orange, red, yellow, purple,
Like a child?s whimsical brushstroke, hues seem accidental, yet graceful.
Long shadows darken the parched terrain, sprouting as if they were the trees themselves
Inch by inch gently blanketing everything in its path.
The rising sun a cue for all living things,
After a peaceful night at rest,
Time to begin another day.
Student Student Second Place:† Elizabeth Griffin
A Letter to East Texas
I know it?s sort of odd to write a letter to a State
You?re made of lots people - some are small and some are great
Your land is mute and cannot speak, dirt?s not gifted in that way
But still let?s talk, just you and me - I?ve got some things to say.
Dear East Texas,
You?ve known me for a while, we met when I was eight
An Okie girl by birth, you?re not my mother state
Of your culture and your accent I wasn?t very fond
Not that I disliked you, but we couldn?t really bond
As a kid I splashed and frolicked in the coolness of your streams
Explored your rocks and forests (but never rooted for your teams)
But as I grew and met myself our differences grew too
You were bucking broncos? while the theater made me swoon
I understand you usually prefer a football game to plays
If you had the time to watch a musical you?d spend it other ways
As a Texan and an actress I feel I lived two lives
Deep in these Piney Woods is not where theatre thrives.
I hope you can forgive me - I?m not trying to be rude
You of all should understand with your big attitude!
I know you?re not offended you?re far too tall for that.
Else how could you wear with pride your cowboy boots and hat?
Now let me change my tune and the reason that I say all this
Because throughout this Summer there was something that I missed
I left you for a while as I traveled on my own
From Missouri, London, Africa - there were times I felt alone
And when my travels were over, the longest I?d ever been away
I realized, upon return, how much you mean to me today
?Absence makes the heart grow fonder? is a phrase with much renown
Now I understand the reason- Heck, I almost kissed the ground!
Far away had gone the little pain I?d felt inside
In its place returned the familiar Texas Pride!
Your Texas skies wide open- beauty bright and blue
Your pine tree forests? ever-green and ever-true
The songs of crickets and cicadas once again within my ears,
Your vibrant misty sunrises that could bring a man to tears
The fresh and fragrant smell of earth, the shining stars above,
Have all reminded me of this place I?ve grown to know and love
East Texas, you were a place to grow, but not a place to stay
You aren?t exactly home, I?ll probably move away
But even though I say that, I?ve learned something special too
I think we?re kindred spirits, I?ve learned so much from you.
You and I are loud, opinionated - strong
Nor can we back down when we know right from wrong
Like a Longhorn I?ve been branded with your name on my heart.
And though I travel far away we?ll never be apart.
You?ve etched your essence into me in a way that won?t reverse
And now I know that that?s a blessing and not at all curse
There will always be a part of me that loves this land until the end
You?re not my mother or my home forever, but you are certainly my friend.
All my love, Elizabeth.
Student Third Place:† Emmalea Shaw
In Northeast Texas,
The pace is slower and
The tea is sweeter.
Folks take the time to ask
After ?Mama and them?.
They circle the wagons in times
Of need.
A casserole, a pound cake,
A few dollars, a helping hand.
No score is kept,
But neighbors and friends pitch in
To build a barn,
To paint a porch,
To plant a garden,
To offer a prayer.
In Northeast Texas
The people are friendlier.
A bar in Boston is not
The only place where
Everybody knows your name.
In a small Northeast Texas town,
A trip to the store
Becomes a walk
down memory lane.
A favorite class.
The playoff run.
The buzzer shot.
The big one that got away
That day fishing down on
Caddo Lake.
In Northeast Texas,
The pine trees are taller,
The peaches are sweeter,
The watermelons are bigger.
Whether red clay or sandy loam,
The soil is better
And yields native dogwoods
And wildflowers aplenty
During the months of spring.
Each small town has its own celebration
Showcasing local talent
And crowning beauty queens.
Antique cars are on display
Along with quilts, crafts
And award winning pies.
In Northeast Texas,
Ties are stronger
To family and friends,
To hometowns,
To schools.
For years families like mine
Have earned degrees
From these hidden gems
Of higher learning
Nestled in the Piney Woods.
One need not travel far
To obtain an education,
To hone a skill or to learn a trade.
Memories are there for the making
And dreams for the taking
Right in our backyard.
Student Fourth Place:† Presley McClendon
East Texas Grace
Trees loom tall covering vast flat lands
With a quiet melody of croaks and buzzes.
Small hands encircle mine looking around
At the fresh cut grass and pond found in her backyard.
This little girl beside me will flourish
Just as fast as one of the sugar gum trees
And just as sweet as well.
Hot, humid weather greets her in the summer,
Begging the sun kissed girl to jump and splash in a lake
And swim with sun perch, bass and catfish.
Cold, rainy winters look down upon her
When she attends school learning quietly
and as she vocally awaits St. Nick?s arrival
For one or two months prior.
Surrounded by people in town who greet by name
Allows the young girl to feel special and loved.
The nature around her, though invites an explorer.
She discovers the softness of a mimosa tree,
The meaning behind a dogwood
And the lessons of wasp and bee stings
Who warned the oblivious girl to not get any closer.
She visits grandparents living on the lake in a cabin,
Teaching the girl how to fish and sew.
The best lemon cake comes from Grandma?s table
Because Grandpa allows unlimited desserts!
The older couple smiles when the girl helps clean
And waves goodbye when she leaves
Knowing next time, the growing girl might not be the same.
Having older sisters at home who tease and torment
Teaches the smaller girl to be wary.
Having ?sister-friends? who look out for her wellbeing,
Teaches the experience of care and love.
The girl?s family eats food grilled outside by Dad
With a dog underneath foot begging for a piece,
Teaches her the right way to spend East Texas nights.
As the little girl crawls into bed
In a house surrounded by tall trees
With longhorns mooing ?goodnight? across the street,
She finds an inner happiness.
The girl?s sisters were right, for once,
Growing up in East Texas holds magic,
A spark seeded and kindled in each homegrown heart.
Adult First Place:† Angela Wylie
GRAMPS?S BARN
Hidden in sheltered corners,
Or glimpsed afar from a winding road;
A memory of the past
Leans tiredly against Time
Memory
Deep memories,
Grey-washed by the sun.
Smoothed by streaming rain.
Shaken by wind.
Long past care or mind
Abandoned
Alone
All but forgotten?
Nostalgia - hidden in East Texas fields
Antique gems in a forgotten trove
They listen through the years
Remembering what once was
And soon will be no more:
Worn, weathered, wood
The years lay smooth and silvered soft
Upon you
Whispers of time,
Shadowed deep in thy grain.
There you stand
Alone on a weedy pastured knoll
Built near the place
where once a busy homestead stood.
Once you sheltered glossy Black Angus cattle.
Once a reluctant milk cow filled your stall.
Where Grandma taught grandchild
The ancient art of milking
Once an elderly beloved horse
Dozed in your sheltering shade
Flicking flies and waiting,
Yearning for companionship
On the last days of his ebbing time
Here
Bold brothers, dared and undaunted,
Jumped from your singular loft
Tumbling into a stack of dusty golden hay
Shouts and laughter billowing up
Into the heavy East Texas air
Nearby
Harnesses once hung from rusty spiked nails
Hardened, salt-corroded metal
And darkened sweat-stained leather
The scent of horse and dirt still there
Embossed into the stiffened fabric of age
But now
Now there are cobwebs on the nails
And emptiness in the stalls
Mice rustle desolately in the barren bins
And the wind sighs through age-widened cracks
Storms have come and gone against the knoll
Time and life have passed on by
What healthy strong hands built to withstand
Wind and rain have worn down
Yet,
Worn, warm, weathered wood
You stand defiant still.
Patiently you shelter your empty past.
Wearily you hold against each new gale
Time respects not memories
And each season brings new wear.
Each storm bears you one step closer
To the eventual fulfillment of Time.
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In the warm worn wood is beauty.
Deep texture in the sunlit wood
Lying soft and warm beneath ethereal sky
Touched by shadowed clouds? impatient journey
There is depth in the velvety dark shadows
Forgotten places whisper sighs and creaks
Offering hidden secrets,
As a new generation explores the old barn.
Adult Second Place:† Frankie King
The Legacy of an Oak
One day while walking across an area of land that I had recently cleared of the timber so I could plant grass to raise beef cattle in Northeast Texas and as I observed the many piles of broken limbs and tree trunks, I began to think about how the trees must have felt about being bulldozed out of the ground, pushed into heaps, and burned into nothing but ashes.† We sometimes justify things by calling it progress, whether it is a new highway, school building, convenience store, or in my case, a new hay meadow.† Many words have been exchanged and many thoughts and positions debated on the environmental impact of clear cutting a forest but I have never seen anything written from the perspective of the victims of the progress.† This poem is my attempt to express how the trees must feel when "progress" strikes close to home.
As it is with all living things
I can't recall the moment I was conceived My friends say it was several years ago At least that's what I have been led to believe
I started out small, not the product of just plain folk My mom and dad was a tall stately Oak And boy was I proud, just a simple acorn But if I say more, I would be tooting my own horn
Then one day, late in the fall
A soft autumn breeze, for no reason at all Came rustling through the forest, with hardly a sound It shook me real hard and hurled me to the ground
I landed with a thud and somewhat stunned I felt as though I had been shot from a gun For weeks I lay still, darning not to move A deer walked by and his hoof left a groove
Not to close but not far behind
a fluffy red squirrel ran down a vine
With hunger in his stomach and me under his thumb I knew this was it, my time had come
But instead of eating me as I thought he would He placed me gently where the deer had stood And in great haste, he covered me with soil And scampered away to continue his toil
For months I lay there all wet and cold
I didn't think I would ever escape from this dark hole The squirrel came back, again and again He never found me but he ate some of my kin
Several more weeks came and went
I was certain my time on earth was surely spent But the days became longer and the soil begin to warm Passing overhead, I could hear a spring thunderstorm
Soon thereafter, my shell got soft and I began to swell I was about to escape from this darkened hell Pushing through the dirt and leaves and all I wanted be like my dad, all straight and tall
I had a long way to go, I looked more like a weed But what can you say about a freshly sprouted seed A simply little twig with one green leaf But I was above ground and what a relief
The hot dry summer is coming and it won't be easy There's a lot to do so I better get busy I knew I had to prepare so I sent down my tap If the rains don't come, I can still store some sap
Many, many years have now gone by
I'm a big tree now and my limbs reach high I made it through the droughts, I withstood the floods I survived the fire, and like a good Oak, I firmly stood
I've provided food and shelter and I've given shade For all of God's creatures in this forest glade I've done my best, I've done my part I've served both man and nature, all's well in my heart
But wait, there's a strange noise and I strain to see It's impossible, my cousins a lot taller, the old pine tree I look all around and I see concern and fear Written on the faces of the trees both far and near
What is this beast that is making its' way here What can it be that causes the trees so much fear We withstood everything that was send by God's hand Only to fall to the desires of a man
What did we do or what haven't we done
To deserve this destruction or can you say my son Perhaps it is progress, or so they will say But is it really.... oh go cut and bale your hay
Trees can't hear and trees can't feel
But tell me this if you will
If this be true, why were these words written Could it be that a man was finally smitten
And now as I lay here all broken and torn As easy as it would be, I feel no scorn Words escape me, but this I will say "Vengeance is mine" sayth The Lord, "I shall repay"
