Welcome....

Jenne' R. Andrews is an American poet. Her career began in 1969 with the mentorship of Robert Bly, former Colorado Poet Laureate Mary Crow, and the Canadian poet Tom Wayman. Her first published poem appeared in The Colorado Review in 1971. Her first collection was published in 1974 by Robert Bly, that same windfall year, she received a literary fellowship from the National Endowment of the Arts and she was appointed full-time Poet in Residence of the St. Paul Schools for four consecutive years before ever completing her Bachelor's Degree. She holds B.A., M.A. and M.F.A. degrees from Colorado State University.

As Andrews was born in New Mexico to a mother of pioneer/Victorian heritage and is a longtime resident of the Poudre River Valley in northern Colorado, the American West figures strongly in Andrews' oeuvre and gives rise to her most lyrical work. Her first collection of poetry in thirty years, Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, appeared in November 2013, from Finishing Line Press. She was a finalist for the Autumn House 2014 Poetry Prize--one of the most prestigious publication prizes in the country among an imposing field of twenty candidates for the prize out of a total of 500 submissions with her collection And Now, the Road.

Her expanded chapbook Blackbirds Dance is available signed from the poet or from Finishing Line; follow the links for an order form. Order the Collection here. Contact Andrews as follows: Facebook as Jenne R Andrews and Twitter @jenandrewspoet. e-mail: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com .

Sunday, April 29, 2012

New Poem: Nomad, for Magpie Tales and Beyond...



 To join Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tales meme click here....


Image:  Manu Prombol
 
 
Nomad

My first instinct, when I see that you
are once more immersed in reading

Lonesome Dove for the tenth time,
is to call you to me.

Live, don’t read, I say;
don’t run away from me into that

long and winding story.
Then I remember the years

alone in my bell jar bedroom,
where the hard-bound frontier

sagas were thick oak doors,
their pages a sheaf of jailer's keys;

that I could bandage my wounds, slip out
to the patio,

throw my great-grandfather's Calvary saddle 
over the adobe wall and race then
 
toward the pinon smoke scenting
the indigo distance—

Apache campfire, braves drumming home
a prodigal rider.




copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2012


12 comments:

Laurie Kolp said...

I love to read. This is great, Jenne. Especially like-

where the hard-bound frontier


sagas were thick oak doors,
their pages a sheaf of jailer's keys

thingy said...

What a glorious image you have presented,

Brian Miller said...

i hear you on this...i started a poem the other day on the progression from actually living to read, then tv, then video games, then what...

lonesome dove is good though...i like the characters...but i also like the double meaning in the title

Tess Kincaid said...

So evocative...I love the scent of leather...the jingling of keys...the smoke in my eyes...

Little Nell said...

Ah the power of ‘immersion’ in a story. Beautifully described.

Berowne said...

I really liked that smoke in the indigo distance...

Maureen said...

Wonderful response to the image, Jenne. As always, great imagery representing the "hard-bound frontier".

Helen said...

Your poem is alive with emotion, colors, textures, adventure ... I enjoyed it!

Sean Vessey said...

As always you have journeys of the heart, mind, body and soul to the edge and beyond

manicddaily said...

Wonderfully compassionate and human. k.

manicddaily said...

Wonderfully compassionate and human. k.

razzamadazzle said...

Great poem. It really is possible to become completely immeresed in what we read.