Retirement Poem

Ode to Janeene

Judicious in judgment, you are drawn to for advice,

Accomplished in your work, because you paid the price.

Nourishing in times of need is part of who you are,

Encouraging staff and students to reach for every star.

Esteemed by those around you for all you do each day, 

Noteworthy in how you figure out problems in your way.

Exemplary human being, showing pride in all you do, 

Simply put, there will never be another "Janeene" like YOU!

I know we’ve joked around a lot these past few weeks about how I’m the “new you” or the “new Janeene,” but truth be told, the more time we spend together, the more I know I could never fill your shoes!

You are leaving behind a wonderful legacy of dedicated service and I hope all the admin assistants for the next 22 years hear about how scheduling was done on a ginormous sheet of paper, because I will pass on your stories to the next generation.

Thank you Janeene, not only for all you taught me in Banner, but for all you showed me through your example. You wear your heart on your sleeve and I know you will do much good in your well-deserved retirement.

I hope you always feel welcome back in HCC 465 and drop by for visits often.  I wish you all the best.

Your friend,

~Jenn

The Rest of the Story

When we left Wyoming, I was heartbroken for a long time. I missed the people, the tight-knit sense of community, and those beautiful big horn mountains. I also missed my job. I was my youngest daughter’s elementary school librarian for about a year and a half before we moved. I never knew my heart could expand so far and wide, fitting all those chubby cheeks, curious minds, and sticky hands inside.

It wasn’t until I finally secured a job in this new and unfamiliar place that my heart began to heal. I was one of the lucky ones. Not many, if any, got the chance to train with their predecessor. Thankfully, I was blessed with four whole weeks with one special lady who had been in the position for over 22 years.

Janeene and I became fast friends, which was easy to do. She is genuinely concerned about everyone who crosses her path. Looking back at the above poem, I am amazed at how well I came to know her in the short time we spent together. Fast forward four years and the poem still rings true today. Janeene and I have stayed in touch since her retirement. She is still as interested in my family and life now as she was back then. Sometimes we go to lunch with a few of her good friends from campus, but often it’s just the two of us.

I’m not sure if Janeene realizes the important part she played in my life during a difficult transition. She made me feel welcomed, loved, valued and needed. The place where I landed no longer felt empty, strange and cold. I finally found “my people” in this new place called home.

Have you ever faced a difficult move or transition in your life? Has someone reached out in kindness to you in your time of need? Tell us your story in the comments below.

The Pigeon Poem

The Pigeon 

 (Parody of "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe)

Once upon a hot summer’s day, while in my E-Z chair I lay

Sweating over homework due on the morrow

I nodded, nearly napping, when suddenly there came a tapping

Like the Mormon missionaries rapping, rapping at my small screen door

“Go away!” I muttered, “I’ve heard you all before.”

                              That was it and nothing more.

I sighed relief that they must have gone along their way

I thought I shouldn’t have been so blunt and bold

Until I heard another round, more of that dreaded tapping sound

As of someone intently rapping, rapping at my small screen door

In a fit of rage, I threw a pillow “I don’t want your forgotten lore!”

                              Hoping they’d leave forevermore.

Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer

“Sir,” said I, “or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping and so intently you came rapping

So persistent was your tapping, tapping as you did before,

That it got upon my nerves” – here I opened up the door

                              Doormat there and nothing more.

Squinting into the sun so searing, I stood there for a moment fearing

Was this parody due driving me insane, the one of 10 lines or more?

Suddenly there came a flapping, flapping in my home, then crapping!

Crapping all over my newly waxed floor!! I felt my heart beating, fleeting

As I looked up from the door,

                              Tis a pigeon there and nothing more.

Angered I shooed the bird with a tap, now I had to clean its crap

I couldn’t believe the bad luck I was having that day

Undoubtedly I knew that now, my mom was going to have a cow

How I wished it was the Mormons rapping, tapping on my small screen door

Then I wouldn’t have to scrub, scrub and get my fingers sore.

                              Will I again answer the door? Nevermore!

by Jenn the high school student

January 28, 1993

The Rest of the Story

Even back in high school, I found myself writing poetry for my peers. This poem was written to benefit my English period classmates. I knew this would be read aloud and I couldn’t wait. I remember choking back laughter and trying to read the poem through my tears. The roars of laughter echo in my mind and I can still see my peers doubling over in delight. In the interest of full disclosure, everyone knew my family was Mormon, so it was okay for me to poke fun at the missionaries. I’m not sure anyone else in the class could have gotten away with it, but I certainly did.

I believe humor is a great way to balance out the stressors of life. When I could otherwise scream, shout, cry or kick something, I choose laughter every time. Do you love to laugh? Can you think of a time you said something funny to cheer someone up? Has someone ever turned your frown upside-down with a good laugh? 

Death of a Neighbor Poem

Ginny & Hugh

Dear Ginny,

We were so sorry to hear the news

That today you lost your beloved Hugh.

Though his last years were tough in many ways

Your charity and love enveloped those days.

Meeting basic human needs is a lot of work

And yet from those duties, you did not shirk.

Your devotion to Hugh has inspired our world

What a precious example for our three little girls.

May God grant you peace from heaven above

As He carefully wraps you in the arms of His love.

With Deep Sympathy and Condolences,

The Stewart Family

  

The above poem and drawing by my daughter were included in our homemade sympathy card.

The Rest of the Story

Our family lived next door to Ginny and Hugh during the time we lived in Wyoming. They were a loving couple in their late eighties who quickly became our adopted grandparents as we had no family in town. Since I worked from home at the time, I would often bring my girls over for a change of pace throughout the week. When we got a plow for our 4-wheeler, my husband would clear their driveway every time it snowed. They never asked - and we never offered - it was just part of life in Wyoming.

One day while I was busy at home with the girls, I happened to glance out the back sliding-door and noticed Ginny outside in her driveway. It looked like she was holding up a bedsheet in front of something. Before I could process the view before me, an ambulance pulled into the driveway. My heart sank. What on earth was going on? Later, I found out that Hugh slipped in the driveway and broke his hip. Ginny tried to keep the sun off him with a sheet until the ambulance arrived. Hugh eventually recovered from his broken hip and made it home from rehab. There was a home care nurse that subsequently came to help once or twice a week, but Ginny still provided the majority of care for Hugh. How she did, we’ll never know. She fed, bathed and clothed Hugh every day, right up until the end. His death marked a new chapter in all our lives.

I like the versatility of poetry. Poetry can inspire and heal, but it can also be raw and difficult. A lot of my personalized poems rhyme, but not all the time. As the weeks progress, I hope to dive deeper into the pond and share a more versatile side of poetry with you.

Have you ever written a poem that helped you face a difficult situation? Or is there a poem you like because it relates to a difficult chapter in your life? Feel free to share it in the comments below.

Cookbook Poem

Sprinkled With Love

When your cookbook arrives, it will be crisp and new

But if you follow your heart, you'll know what to do.

In time you will learn how to "season" your book,

And soon it will take on a completely new look.

So don't be dismayed by the first little splatter,

As little ones help out with the pancake batter.

Or that bubble of grease that hops onto your page

While frying the chicken in hot oil and sage.

For each crinkled page with a stain and a smudge

Tells a story of how much the cooking was loved.

Perhaps by the cook who was working with care,

Or the kids who "helped out" with their own special flair.

Perhaps by the sick or those who welcomed a child,

Or the homeless and hungry who ate with a smile.

The stories behind each splatter and spill

Are unselfish gestures of love and goodwill.

While you try and handle your cookbook with care,

Don't be afraid to leave a part of you there.

For the best cookbooks are not on a shelf high above,

But rather those on the counter, that get

sprinkled with love!

by Jenn Stewart
June 2, 2010

The Rest of the Story

For nearly a decade our family lived in a small town in northern Wyoming. We still love that town immensely. We raised our daughters there. The beautiful Big Horn Mountains were practically our back yard, and we spent the majority of every summer exploring all the lakes and trails. We once even discovered an old abandoned gold mine there among those tall pines and rocky trails.

The local church congregation we attended decided one year it was time to put out a call for recipes and create a church cookbook. Since they knew my flair for poetry, they requested I write a poem to grace the inside cover of the book. The request resulted in the above Sprinkled with Love poem. Making dinners for others was a staple in those parts. You couldn’t have a child, bury a relative, or visit the soup kitchen without someone making you a good home-cooked meal.

Have you ever been blessed with a meal when you really needed it? I'd love to hear about it in the comments below.

Welcome to my Blog!

The Story of My Poetry

Welcome to personalized poetry for the service-oriented soul! I am glad you are here.

I am currently a full-time graduate student in the Technical Writing and Digital Rhetoric program at Dixie State University. I also work full time as the administrative specialist to the dean of the College of Humanities and Social Sciences here at DSU. Between school, work, and a family of five at home, life is busy - but life is good.

One blog I’ve followed since I was an elementary school librarian is An Hour a Day by children’s author Claudia Mills: https://claudiamillsanhouraday.blogspot.com/. I plan to follow Claudia’s footsteps and enjoy this journey in all its happy, sad, and messy glory.

We all know you should blog about something you are passionate about. That thing for me is poetry. I wrote my first poem in kindergarten on a subject I knew nothing about (snow - I lived in the Phoenix area) but it rang true to everyone who read it. Someone must have praised it because I remember feeling so proud of that poem, and I never stopped writing.

Eventually, I grew up, got married and had three kids. Poetry means something different to me now. Rather than writing to process my own life experiences, I’m reaching out beyond myself with poetry. Writing poems for others has become a meaningful way for me to give back some of what poetry gave me in my youth.

Each week I plan to post at least one or two poems to this blog and describe the story behind my poetry. I may also provide some insight into how I write my poetry from time to time. I welcome your comments, encouragement, suggestions, and requests!