Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DIPPING CANDLES IN VERMONT, by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY Poet's Biography First Line: A-dipping candles used to be Last Line: Can turn no tastier trick today. Subject(s): Family Life; Grandchildren; Vermont; Relatives; Grandsons; Granddaughters | ||||||||
A-DIPPING candles used to be A sight it soothed your eyes to see; It ain't like pouring tallow down A metal throat you buy in town; It ain't like fishing out a mold And casting sugar cakes or gold, It's wicking, tallow, wit and tact Combined in one artistic fact. And so it's right enough to ask "Is this a squire's or lady's task?" And echo answers sharp and clear, "The female form is needed here;" A man of candle-dipping turn Would be the kind that wouldn't churn, The kind that's always in the way And never out of debt a day. A soft-compacted wicking ball Is what is needed first of all; And this you see Fidelia touch And take enough of, not too much; And then she hums a little song And cuts it "right," but not too long; And then she knots it 'round her stick, Jest thick enough, but not too thick. Meanwhile, as probably as not, The tallow's been a-getting hot, And now the old big kettle cools Amongst the backroom tubs and stools, For substances solidify At melting point, (X equals Pi); That's why you have to "seize the hour" Or get inferior candle power. Then next Fidelia takes a chair The straight-backed one that's always there And grasps her hickory dipping-stick That holds a dozen warps of wick, And, poising it above the pool, She lets it dip and drip and drool; Then up and down againjest so, As Candle Brothers start to grow. Then stick in hand, three steps or four She takes and ope's the outside door, Whereat all kinds of northwest cold The little fellers' forms enfold, With such effect the tallow dears Hush up their stalactitic tears: Then back she goes and starts again To bathe the little candle men. At last inside her box they go, The pretty candles, "snow on snow," Each tallow man ten inches long, Bemade with art, baptized with song; Fidelia's handiwork, indeed, It's all the blessing that they need; Her grandchild, Gladys, let me say, Can turn no tastier trick today. | Other Poems of Interest...A GRANDFATHER'S LAST LETTER by NORMAN DUBIE NURSING HOME: THE VISIT by KAREN SWENSON TO ALFRED TENNYSON, MY GRANDSON by ALFRED TENNYSON MY SON'S SON TO HIS SON'S SON - PERHAPS by MABEL RUTHERFORD BRIDGES GRANNIE'S DREAM: A TRUE INCIDENT by JANET HAMILTON FLEUR DE LYS by CORINNE HUNTINGTON JACKSON SAMANTHA QUITS GROWING by FLEDA BROWN JACKSON GRANDCHILD by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER BLACKBERRIES FOR AMELIA by RICHARD WILBUR |
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