Yew at UGA (Photo by Jordan Peeples)‘Song of the Yew, at University of Georgia, Athens,’ and Other Poetry by Alexander King Ream The Society May 31, 2019 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 9 Comments Song of the Yew, at the University of Georgia, Athens a sprig of General Oglethorpe’s ancestral yew was transported and planted aside the University of Georgia Arch on College Square, in Athens Evergreen, with rusty hue, Needles clean, with rain and dew, Oglethorpe transported me From Britain west across the sea. His home and land were both combined, My nomenclature was entwined, For generations close we stayed, Now my descendants be arrayed. Aside the Arch, in Athens town, My needles green, and tinged with brown; Before they fall into the dust, They go from green to brownish rust. Angle-terre was old, you see, America was new to me— The evergreen renews itself From shelf, to continental shelf. Said the Millennial Away with what you say we need: Cars and houses, lawns and seed. We missed the memo where you sold A bill of goods, of cost untold. Alexander King Ream, formerly known under the penname Neal Dachstadter, is a poet living in Tennessee. His work has been printed in Decanto Poetry Magazine (UK), Western Viewpoints and Poetic Images: the Great American West (Woodinville, Washington), Society of Classical Poets Journal 2015 (Mt Hope, New York), Rocky Point Times (Puerto Peñasco, Mexico) and The Lyric (Jericho, Vermont). A member of the Demosthenian Literary Society at the University of Georgia, he deployed to Hawija, then wrote on Lookout Mountain, continuing with Delta Kappa Epsilon International. Berkeley, Ann Arbor, and Athens encouraged him as a writer. In 2015 he wrote in Arizona at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument five miles north of Mexico. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 9 Responses C.B. Anderson May 31, 2019 Alexander, I love the irony in both poems. So you are a Deke? I was friends with many Dekes during my time at Wesleyan University, and they were all stalwart fellows with firm handshakes. I do not believe, however, that many of them wrote poems. Reply Alexander Ream June 1, 2019 Thanks CB; we colonized DKE at UGA, and then I worked for the HQ in Ann Arbor for a couple of years. I was printed while House Dad at LSU. It was begun, as you likely know, as a literary society in 1844. There was still a sense of ancientry about the order when I was much involved – some of the best years of my life. That ancientry motivated me to “dwell in 1850” and write. I was printed in West Sussex while working for them, therefore. Michigan, Berkeley and LSU, among other chapters, always backed my writing and hosted literary exercises. Those guys were / are brilliant: wild enough to get back to their original roots, iow. I’m currently taking a room with the retired Director and his wife in their four bedroom house and vegetable gardening in their backyard. I’d like for you to see a photo of the tomato, cucumber, bean, squash and zucchini trellises, one of them approaches topiary quality. Based on Rodale / Cohen’s plans from the magazine. Reply Alexander Ream June 1, 2019 PS – President Evan and his posse were seen several times at Michigan Deke. A pellet gun might have been involved – or at least, that’s what I hear. Reply C.B. Anderson June 2, 2019 I’m not quite sure what you mean here, but I can assure you that I am familiar with the uses of a good pellet gun. I’m pretty sure that my name will be written in the annals of squirrel, woodchuck and rabbit mythology as a great enemy of rodent-kind if and when these pestiferous species ever achieve sentience and record a body of literature. Reply Alexander Ream June 3, 2019 Nothing but centrist fun and tomfoolery – in a related issue, one of my buddies from high school shot his lunch out of a tree and fried it – a squirrel. Hey – waste not, want not. Reply C.B. Anderson June 3, 2019 I’ve eaten squirrel many a time, but it doesn’t stack up to prime rib. Reply Alexander Ream June 3, 2019 enough about protein – here’s some of Rodale / Cohen’s wisdom applied to vegetables https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2336594729741006&set=a.121303044603530&type=3&theater Monty June 4, 2019 Well, it’s now plain to see that you obviously CAN write decent poetry . . . what a contrast to a previous piece. Reply Alexander Ream June 4, 2019 Glad to make a convert – thanks Monty Reply Leave a Reply to C.B. Anderson Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.