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April: National Poetry Month
our books of poetry, Ballad of the Bones (1945), Bow Down in Jericho (1950), A Song of Joy (1955), and The Season of Flesh (1955) contain the corpus of his poetic production. Yet he wrote many more poems not contained within the pages of these four books. As many of his poems as could be found (those in the four published books of poetry and others published elsewhere or unpublished) were professionally recorded on audio disks by reader Keith Jones in 2007 using the services of the National Recording Company of Rome, Georgia (by owner and manager, Johnny Carter, who, himself, has a great interest in Reece and has ties ancestrally to Union County). The set of audio disks are available either from the Byron Herbert Reece Society of Young Harris or from the recording company in Rome. For hours of good listening, you might like to purchase this Reece audio poetry collection. In addition to being a poet, Reece also received acclaim for this two published novels, each of which demonstrates his remarkable genius as a writer. Someone has said of the novels and their style of writing: Poetic and lyrical in nature, the novels are "Flawlessly written, filled with tenderness and human understanding" (from blurb of Better a Dinner of Herbs (1950). About The Hawk and the Sun (1955) this was written: "This realistic and shocking story, (is) set forth in the commanding and lyrical style of a writer hailed for his talents as a poet" (blurb). Reece has the young lad Danny (a character in Better a Dinner of Herbs) ponder about the coming of spring to the mountains and the farm in the phrase: "When Spring begins to stain" (p. 127). Danny's thoughts, as he hoes the corn, are likewise poetic: "As the sap rose in the trees and the first flowers began to open in the wayward places, he felt inside himself a vigor that made him want to gambol with the young lambs in the spring pasture." There are numerous examples in the two novels of Reece's keen observation of nature and his poetic bent in descriptive narrative. In this short column, it would be impossible to laud the genius and talent of "our" poet, one who was first and foremost a farmer and then a poet. It is true that many of his poems explore the theme of death, of Time's passage, of melancholy themes. But in my opinion, some of his most exquisite writings demonstrate his ability to be one with Nature, one with the seasons, one with growing things, and with the beloved land of his mountain farm home. I highly recommend that you go again to Reece's books of poetry (I hope you have them in your collection; certainly you can see them at a Georgia library near you if you don't own them) and read his lyrical treasures. I am hard-pressed to select a "favorite" among his many styles: lyrical ballads, sonnets, lyrical poems on a variety of subjects, keen observations and polished language in all. But somehow, at this time of year, April and spring's advent, I reread his poems about spring and am lifted and inspired by them. I give lines from some short ones in tribute to his lyrical skill, for your reading pleasure, and to honor him during April, National Poetry Month. There are many, many more than the three cited here. SEASONAL Although it is not in the mind For youth to be brief as the summer Earth's seasons are all of a kind. The earliest comer To spring must witness the bough Translate the blooming that dapples The land untouched by the plow, To the falling of apples. (from Ballad of the Bones, c1945, p. 74). NOW THAT SPRING IS HERE Now that the year's advanced to the spring And leaves grow large and long Forget each sorry and rueful thing Hearing the wild bird's song. The leaf will fall, the bird will fly And winter close the year, But O, put all such knowledge by Now that spring is here! (from Bow Down in Jericho, c1950, p. 108) WE COULD WISH THEM A LONGER STAY Plum, peach, apple and pear And the service tree on the hill Unfold blossom and leaf. From them comes scented air As the brotherly petals spill. Their tenure is bright and brief. We could wish them a longer stay, We could wish them a charmed bough On a hill untouched by the flow Of consuming time, but they Are lovelier, dearer now Because they are soon to go, Plum, peach, apple and pear And the service blooms whiter than snow. (from Bow Down in Jericho, c1950, p. 109) His poems need no explanation or comment; they stand alone, they speak for themselves. I invite you to explore Reece's poetry for yourself during this month set aside for poetic pursuit. As many times as I have perused his books of poetry (and prose), I always find something refreshing and thought-provoking each time I read them. We owe it to his poetic genius and memory to let his poems speak to us anew in this 90th anniversary of his birth, 2008. |
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