Some Broken Twigs

In Short

This collection of poems serves as a meditative chronicle of mid-century American life, deeply rooted in the landscape and values of Oklahoma. It functions as a gentle manual for resilience, blending observations of the natural world with reflections on faith, duty, and the steady passage of time. Through a mix of traditional verse and short, imagistic stanzas, the work explores the necessity of weathering personal storms to achieve a deeper, quiet contentment. It has lasted as a sincere artifact of a domestic, observant spirit seeking beauty amidst the rigors of existence.

The Story

The arc of the collection begins with an acknowledgment of the harsh realities of progress, setting the stage for a journey that moves between the intimacy of the domestic hearth and the wider, often daunting, world beyond. The opening poems establish the tone: life is a "tour" of ambition, where youth must struggle to cross the "stormy breakers" of experience. There is a palpable sense of the environment as a living, breathing participant in this journey—the cycle of the seasons acts as a mirror for human development, where winter’s grey tones soothe an inner pain, and the budding of spring signifies the inevitable return of hope.

As the narrative progresses, the focus shifts to the immediate, tangible reality of "home." The poems delineate the simple joys of a life built on a foundation of faith and familial love. We see the influence of the "sturdy clan" who tamed the wilderness, and the author turns her gaze to the landscape of Oklahoma, celebrating the prairie plains and the quiet persistence of those who live upon them. This is not a static portrait; it is one filled with the sounds of cow-bells, the movement of river traffic, and the busy, fleeting energy of children playing in the park.

However, the collection does not shy away from the shadows. It confronts the "bees of hatred" and the pain of "sin-scarred hearts" who trample the flowers of others in their vanity. The emotional center of the book rests on the tension between the fragility of human promises—likened to "gossamer film"—and the permanence of the natural laws that govern the earth. The narrative arc inevitably leads toward a reconciliation of these forces. By acknowledging the reality of both the "blasted rock" and the "rose bush," the reader is guided toward a philosophy of quiet endurance.

The resolution of the collection is found in the daily rhythm of gratitude. The poems conclude by circling back to the foundational pillars of the author’s life: God, country, and community. The final movements emphasize the necessity of "counting" one’s blessings, observing how the stifling heat of summer and the bitter cold of winter eventually yield to a sense of peace. The journey ends not in a grand climax, but in the soft, steady realization that despite the "broken twigs" encountered along the path, the soul is fortified by the capacity to sing, to serve, and to witness the beauty of a day lived in faith.

How It Unfolds

The challenge of youth The collection opens by framing the transition into adulthood as a strenuous trek, comparing the protected, "coddled" individual to a greenhouse plant that cannot survive the open air. It argues that true character is forged only by those who accept the "gaff and thrust" of life’s difficulties.

The seasonal rhythm The poems then ground the reader in the cyclical nature of the world, where the dormancy of winter is treated as a necessary preparation for future growth. Nature is presented as a comforting, albeit sometimes harsh, teacher that soothes the internal anxieties of the observer.

The domestic sanctuary Midway through, the focus narrows to the home, highlighting the importance of a stable, hallowed space where elders read psalms and children play. This section juxtaposes the quiet safety of the hearth against the frightening, unpredictable nature of the storms that howl outside the door.

The social observation The book shifts toward the interpersonal, examining the complexities of friendship, the dangers of pride, and the inevitable misunderstandings that occur between people. It offers a gentle, moralizing perspective on how to navigate the judgment of others and the temptation toward vanity.

The final harvest The collection closes with a series of prayers and expressions of gratitude, celebrating the abundance of the harvest and the enduring spirit of the land. It leaves the reader with a sense of completion, summarizing the necessity of faith as a tool to drive away hopelessness and maintain a "kindly" heart.

The People

The central figures are not singular protagonists but archetypes of the human condition. The "Youth" represents the budding potential of the next generation, characterized by a mix of naive ambition and a need for the "inner courage" that can only be gained through trial. This figure must move away from the safety of the "favored nooks" to find their own way.

The "Mother" figure, often addressed directly or observed in her role as the anchor of the domestic space, represents the steady, quiet endurance of love. She is the one who "spreads blankets" and waits with gentle calm, serving as the moral compass of the household. Her presence acts as a counterbalance to the "weary man" or the "foolish guy"—those who are driven by pride or bitterness.

Finally, the "Observer" (the voice of the poems) serves as the bridge between these figures. She is a woman who watches flowers grow to ease her own grief, a traveler who finds serenity on a ferry, and a neighbor who feels silly when a borrowed cup of sugar is returned. She wants to understand the world’s "secrets," yet she knows that the answers are often found in simple, everyday acts of grace. By the end, she is no longer merely looking at the world; she is participating in its cycles, tempered by the knowledge that while she cannot control the storm, she can always choose to sing.

In Its Own Voice

The coddled youth, like greenhouse plant / Will wilt and die in desert sand, / Can never meet the storms of life, / Untried and mild and soft his hands.

The author warns that a life protected from all struggle prevents the development of the resilience required to survive.

The waiting minutes / Tick on but never ending / To eternity.

This brief, precise observation captures the psychological weight of time during moments of uncertainty.

It is a happy thing to dance / A long a level road / So brave a deed to take a chance / Of slipping off the load.

The poet reflects on the courage it takes to maintain a light heart while carrying the burdens of daily responsibility.

What It's Really About

The book is a sustained argument for the necessity of "brokenness" in a well-lived life. It posits that a landscape—or a human soul—without scars or "broken twigs" is somehow incomplete. The central question asks how one remains "trim and straight" while enduring the gales of existence. The argument is that resilience is not the absence of damage, but the ability to stand "scarred yet staunch" in the face of it. It explores the tension between the desire for safety and the reality of a world defined by "scorching sprees" and "dark days." Ultimately, it suggests that the "glory made" is only accessible to those who are willing to struggle, and that faith is the engine that keeps the spirit moving forward.

Why Read It Today

Reading this collection feels like stepping into a parlor from a different era, where the pace is set by the rising and setting of the sun rather than the ticking of a clock. Readers who appreciate the intersection of pastoral observation and sincere, homespun morality will find a comforting resonance here. It is an honest piece of work; it does not hide its period-specific attitudes, and the language is often simple, sometimes bordering on the didactic, reflecting the earnest, mid-century impulse to offer moral guidance through verse.

The difficulty for a modern reader may lie in the occasional reliance on sentimental tropes—the "happy heart" or the "goblins" of the night—which can feel distant from contemporary sensibilities. Yet, there is a profound, quiet strength in its refusal to be cynical. You will encounter poems that are clearly written for a specific, local audience, with references to local geography and 1940s-era events, which creates a poignant sense of place. It stays with you not because of complex intellectual puzzles, but because of its insistent, quiet warmth. It is a reminder that even when the "bees of hatred" hover, there is still value in watching flowers bloom and in taking a "happy chance" on the road of life.