http://archives.weru.org/writers-forum/2015/06/writers-forum-61115/
At this above link, please listen to an excellent introduction, and biography of Ray Beal, and enjoy listening to him read the poetry of his ancestors from Beals Island, Maine, along with some of his own works of poetry. His family came to Beals Island in the 1700's.
Beyond all of his artistic gifts, and knowledge of navigating the sea so folks can enjoy lobsters, Ray has given me a sincere friendship for many years now...not to mention a day out on the sea with him, and his (late) father Clinton, on their lobster boat. Please enjoy three of his works, and photography to follow. * Note the hole in the granite ledge in the first photo... and know the first poem is based on truth.
The Land Mark, Circa 1930
in memory of George F. Beal
In a pea soup fog
without sight and sound
of Mistake Island light
with the hold full
of mostly cod
he set his course for
the Lighthouse Channel
and read the waves and wind
as he ran in
from Grand Manan Bank
with the fog so thick
it distorted the senses
but with faith
and a sense of self
he finally saw
the hole in the rock
on the southern shore
of red granite ledges
of Steele Harbor Island
and knew he was where
he meant to be.
At this above link, please listen to an excellent introduction, and biography of Ray Beal, and enjoy listening to him read the poetry of his ancestors from Beals Island, Maine, along with some of his own works of poetry. His family came to Beals Island in the 1700's.
Beyond all of his artistic gifts, and knowledge of navigating the sea so folks can enjoy lobsters, Ray has given me a sincere friendship for many years now...not to mention a day out on the sea with him, and his (late) father Clinton, on their lobster boat. Please enjoy three of his works, and photography to follow. * Note the hole in the granite ledge in the first photo... and know the first poem is based on truth.
The Land Mark, Circa 1930
in memory of George F. Beal
In a pea soup fog
without sight and sound
of Mistake Island light
with the hold full
of mostly cod
he set his course for
the Lighthouse Channel
and read the waves and wind
as he ran in
from Grand Manan Bank
with the fog so thick
it distorted the senses
but with faith
and a sense of self
he finally saw
the hole in the rock
on the southern shore
of red granite ledges
of Steele Harbor Island
and knew he was where
he meant to be.
Door to Grandmother's
When the wooden button,
that Grandfather had whittled
from a left over spruce lath,
was crossed against the storm door;
neither of you were at home.
Through the door window
some of your trinkets are still present,
and reflected there the entry
to your son-in-law's cellar
is still less than one hundred feet away.
The butterfly doily you crocheted
still hangs in the window,
My eyes empty memory's sweet tears
as my heart is filled with gratitude.
When the wooden button,
that Grandfather had whittled
from a left over spruce lath,
was crossed against the storm door;
neither of you were at home.
Through the door window
some of your trinkets are still present,
and reflected there the entry
to your son-in-law's cellar
is still less than one hundred feet away.
The butterfly doily you crocheted
still hangs in the window,
My eyes empty memory's sweet tears
as my heart is filled with gratitude.
INSPIRED BY FLOWERS
in memory of my parents
Clinton L. "Buddy" Beal
April 15, 1923 - March 10, 2007
Lottie A. "Aunt Lottie" Beal
April 17, 1924 - January 5, 2010
Flowers have held my fascination since childhood,
It has been a quarter century since I began
to focus some attention and creative energy on trying
to capture, hopefully, some aspect of the fleeting
beauty and mystery of flowers. This focus was greatly
enhanced by the words of my then thirteen year old daughter:
Whispers of color
nestled into security
they lie....there
exulting innocent power
beauty....beaming from their veins
placid...gentle...and naive...
they are but pieces of a greater puzzle
...flowers!
~ Carmen B. Kallgren
These words of my daughter have served
as one of my most cherished guides in my
attempt to transform personal pain into
universal wonder.
~ Ray N. Beal
Ray N. Beal Vision Quest Productions P.O. Box 49, Beals, Maine 04611
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