March 2014 Winners - Lullabies

It isn't only mothers who cherish and sing to babies. Grandparents do, too!

Photo used by permission.

Multiple Judges

The Oregon Poetry Association has one category in its fall contests with “dueling judges.” There are two judges and potentially two sets of winners. This month there were three “dueling judges” – Barb, Kayla and Jenny, all mothers of little ones. Each one selected a different first place winner. That just goes to show that our response to poetry is subjective. But then we have different tastes in music, favor different brownie recipes, and select different movies to watch multiple times, so it isn’t surprising that different people prefer different poems.

The poem picked as first place by Kayla was given second place by the other two judges, so it is first place over-all.

Summer Slumber

Sweet little baby

Underneath the tree

Lying on a blanket soft

Cuddled up with me

A soft wind whispers

Sleep, baby sleep

It’s time to close your eyes

The afternoon will keep

Garden chimes ring sweetly

A bird wings overhead

The dappled sun will warm you

Like covers for your bed

Dream my little sweet one

Gently close your eyes

As white fluffy cloud sheep

Graze across the sky

Honey bees are droning

Their soft summer song

Cheerful crickets rubbing wings

Their music plays along

And now you sleep my little one

Your lash against your cheek

Smile, dream on, and when you wake

This world is yours to keep

~ Mary Cohutt

Jenny, who gave this poem second place commented, “This is the one I might like to sing most to my own baby.  I would like to have a refrain or something to return to, but the words are both specific and general enough to work for most any mother singing to her child.  Nice evocative language for setting the scene of a warm summer afternoon.”

Barb selected the following lullaby poem as first place. She said, “It's simple and seems like a lullaby.”

Lullaby

Your eyes are blue of the evening sky

twinkling as the brightest stars.

Your ears are shells on the tide-swept beach

echoing the murmur of the ocean.

Your cheeks are glowing pastels

of a summer sunrise.

Your lips are buds of a pale pink rose

glistening with morning dew.

The crown of your head is a downy peach

perfumed with sweet cream.

You suckle my breast in greedy gulps

while fondling my gown with delicate fingers

as your eyes gaze into my own.

While the whole world sleeps

we share these treasured moments

in timeless bliss.

~ Susan Hanford

First place selected by Jenny is the following:

Isabella’s Lullaby

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep,
and don’t you cry anymore
for all around are people who love you.
Cloudless is the sky above you.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep,
and don’t you cry anymore.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep,
though your world has turned upside down,
your mother and father no longer together,
a chill in the air, despite the hot weather.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep,
though your world has turned upside down.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep,
you sweet little niece of mine.
If only I could protect and hold you,
let my loving arms enfold you.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep,
you sweet little niece of mine.

Dream. Dream. Dream
of brighter days to come.
Your daddy has found himself a new love,
and she’s become someone that you love.
Dream. Dream. Dream
of brighter days to come.

~ Abbie Johnson Taylor

Jenny said, “It's a darker take on a traditional lullaby, but feels both very contemporary and has a nice lilting quality with the refrain (Sleep, sleep, sleep) at the beginning of each verse.  For me, it works the best for being set to music.”

Jenny selected the following poem for third place:

Serenade for My Goddaughter, Kimberly Ann Eversole

            The last moon shines a cradle tune,

            And who will croon it?

                        Miguel de Unamuno, “Song for Grandchild”

Kept warm you sleep your first sleep

As day slumbers out of night,

Ever earlier falls under

                                    the November evening.

Keynote, the moon’s last quarter rises,

A cradle loaded with darkness

Edged with gold, pouring lullabies

                                    into our evening.

Kindled a kaleidoscope sky flicks on stars

A dark mine in Africa reflecting its diamonds.

Even that distant, your presence grows

                                    part of our evening.    

  

~ Diane Kendig

 

Diane says this poem was written a decade ago when Kimberly was born. “It is both a serenade (a form where every stanza ends with the word "evening") and an acrostic on her [initials]. It also has a pun on her name, "Kimberly," the place in South Africa where diamonds are mined. It is also inspired by Unamuno's lullaby to his first grandchild. (The translation of his lines is mine.)”

Jenny liked the poem because of its creative imagery. She said it “could be set to music, though it trips up the tongue a bit.”

 

About the Winning Poets:

Mary Cohutt who lives in Western Massachusetts, has two adult children and two grandchildren. She earned a paralegal degree as an older adult and now work as a Leasing Consultant. She also has a business of her own called "The Good Daughter."  She reviews paperwork and handles daily financial concerns of elderly people. She says, “Nothing pleases me more than being out in nature except perhaps being out in nature with a good book!”

Susan Hanford lives in Geneseo, Illinois and teaches math at East Moline Christian School.  She is a member of Quint City Poets and Rockford Writers Guild and enjoys writing poetry, composing music, and playing the French horn.  Her two sons are now grown, married, and living in Seattle, WA and Berkeley, CA area, and she is looking forward to the birth of her first grandchild in July.

Abbie Johnson Taylor is the author of a novel, We Shall Overcome, and a poetry collection, How To Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver. Her chapbook, That’s Life: New and Selected Poems, will be published by Finishing Line Press this summer. Her work has appeared in Distant Horizons and Sensations Magazine. She is visually impaired and lives in Sheridan, Wyoming, where for six years, she cared for her late husband, totally blind and partially paralyzed by two strokes. Please visit her Website at http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com.

Diane Kendig has worked as a poet, writer, translator and teacher for 40 years and authored four poetry collections, including The Places We Find Ourselves. A recipient of two Ohio Arts Council Fellowships, she has published most recently in J Journal, Wordgathering, About Place, and qarrtsiluni. She’s on the web at http://dianekendig.com/ and blogging at http://dianekendig.blogspot.com/.