Hot summer days call for poetry

Published 12:28 pm Friday, July 25, 2025

The seemingly endless dog days of summer call for a retreat – if other life demands allow – to a cool, preferably quiet spot far away from the sun. And for an activity that connects us to others in engaging ways.

Perhaps one answer is to revisit the lost art of reading poetry.

Earlier generations, not so absorbed with digital screens or television (an invention that my father once called “the idiot box”), paid closer attention to poetry, rhyming or not, classic anthology pieces or melodious bits entertaining to children. Educators did too.

On one of these blistering days, why not spend time enjoying verses, even memorizing one if it strikes a chord, as we might with scripture or a song?

Of course calling up poems about virtually anything can be done in minutes online through sites like hellopoetry.com. But I like spending time with a hard copy, as I do with newspapers.

While it seldom gets requests for works of poetry these days, the welcoming Meridian-Lauderdale County Public Library can accommodate them, steering visitors to renowned and lesser-known collections. The children’s department features rows of illustrated story books that are grounded in poetry.

There, for example, in “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood: The Poetry of Mister Rogers,” one finds in “Parents Were Little Once, Too” this childish offering:

“My mother’s not so big as Dad

But bigger than my sister.

I wonder if she ever had

A little fever blister.”

Some of our finest poetry – carrying personal meaning, even if it never claimed honors – may be available right at home. How about those aging published volumes high on the family bookshelf, untouched for years? Or better yet, creative musings of older relatives, stashed away in files or boxes, never shared with a large audience? Poems that speak to traits of that individual, or shed light on a particular struggle or joy.

Our family was blessed with a couple of poets who, drawing on life experiences, wrote mostly for their own satisfaction, often to capture a feeling or stir the imagination.

My mother-in-law, Cynthia Browning Callahan, a longtime school counselor in Arkansas who was active in writing groups, crafted poetry about matters serious and light. One of my favorites, “College Memories,” recalls life as an Arkansas State student:

“Many days, many classes,

Many thoughts for sure,

Sets, relations, ratios, lines,

Phonics, planets, music, signs,

College life endure.

Snow a’falling, no date calling,

Life a steady drone—then

Comes Friday and somebody

On the telephone!”

A somewhat more homespun talent, my grandfather, former Delta hardware store manager George D. Warner Sr., could dream up verses about virtually anything. His poems reflected a devotion to offbeat entertainment he honed as a young man taking part in community vaudeville shows.

Here’s an excerpt from “The Graveyard Blues,” inspired by a local cemetery:

“Meridian is a very fine city

Lots of interesting things to see

A century old cemetery

Really amazes me

I passed this old resting place

On a recent real dark night

Ordinarily I am not afraid

But in a moment I was filled with fright

I could hear the weeping willows weep

I could hear the Magnolias sigh

I could hear a moan like the cracking of a bone

Oh how I wished for wings to fly”

These beloved individuals passed away long ago, but their many poems are preserved in a pair of printed family collections, “Cynthia’s Journey” and “Hardware Man.” For me, revisiting these is a profitable use of idle time on a sizzling summer day.

Warner is a journalist and cultural historian, and can be contacted at legacypress.warner@gmail.com.