Evelyn Hopfner

Aspiring Poet/Writer, Discoverer of my hidden talents
Territory of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, the Chippewa, the Anishnabeg, the Mississauga, and the Huron-Wendat (Pefferlaw, ON, Canada)

Mathilda: A Poem in 4 Parts

Mathilda

The studio was open and, as I was hoping,
My very own muse came to me.
I was feeling the blues, contemplating the news,
When a knock on my door startled me.

I got up from my chair, went to see who was there.
Found a woman out in the cold.
She had pretty red hair, with her eyes sparkling fair,
She looked friendly, not very old.

She said “How do you do” - I asked her “Who are you?”
She said: “I’m Mathilda, your muse,
I hope I’m not too late, helping you to create;
I heard your call, so don’t refuse”.

“You may never have heard of a muse so absurd,
To be named Mathilda like me;
But my powers are great, so please don’t hesitate
And think what good friends we could be”

I invited her in and offered her gin
In a glass with tonic and lime.
She accepted with glee and sat down next to me
And finished her drink in no time.

Then, after one more, she told me: “don’t ignore
This wisdom I’ll be teaching you.
For the rest of your years, however it appears,
You shall never again feel blue”.

“When you write it all down, I will give you a crown
To wear proudly upon your head.
And I hope, what you’re writing will be quite exciting
And worthy of all to be read”.

Then she said, I looked tired, and it was not required
That I stay awake through the night.
I should go to my bed and there lay down my head
And sleep until morning’s first light.

When I did what she said, she sat next to my bed
And sang a most beautiful song.
When I woke the next day, she had gone far away
But I knew, her friendship was strong.

Preparation

She came back on day two and said: “How do you do,
Today we will start to create.
Search deep in your heart, think of something real smart,
That will open the artistic gate”.

So I tried and I tried, but I could not decide.
I could not conceive what she meant.
I sat there in sorrow and thought I could borrow
An idea from a good friend.

But Mathilda said “No, you create your own show,
Just search in your heart to find love,
Find your creative mood, express your gratitude,
To honour the One up above”.

“You must create some space, so you can work with grace,
Now let us get rid of your junk”.
But she saw my despair, because I really care
For all that old stuff in the trunk.

So she said: “take your time, let’s have some gin with lime”
And we settled down with a glass.
When I finished my drink, I just started to think,
I might never get off of my ass.

She looked at me sadly and said: “I will gladly
Let you hold on to your treasures,
But, if you do not move, your space here to improve,
I’ll have to use tougher measures”.

So I started to clean, working like a machine,
Till the house was done and me tired,
When my bones felt weary, and my eyes were bleary,
But my heart and my soul felt inspired.

Mathilda was happy, she said: “make it snappy
And get yourself into your bed”.
When I laid down to sleep, she sat next to my feet
Singing a tune I can’t forget.

That night, before long, I was wrapped in her song
Of  love and forgiveness and light.
That gentle melody kept calling out to me,
‘Trust in God, all will be alright’.

Song and Dance

The next day she came back with a harp on her back
And said: “let’s make music today”.
I thought I could do it, but did not pursue it
Until she proceeded to sway.

When harp strings were sounding, it was most astounding
The music-making had begun.
It all seemed in order, I found my recorder
And played a few notes, just for fun.

Then the birds in the trees twittered happy with ease,
And the crickets chirped soprano,
The frogs croaked baritone, and bees buzzed on and on,
Squirrels danced on a piano.

A dog barked on the hill, I heard a whip-poor-will,
Crows assembled for their caw-caw.
Nearby a cuckoo bird sounded a bit absurd,
Some ducks came together to quack.

Goose wings were unfurling and butterflies swirling
A dragonfly sang “I love you”,
Some spiders were spinning and chipmunks were grinning
And a wise old owl screeched “Yahoo”.

And the Nightingale’s tweets sounded ever so sweet
A woodpecker drummed in his tree.
I could not believe it, pure heaven to see it -
All of nature in harmony.

Then I sang with my muse, letting go of my blues,
And I danced with her arm in arm.
It was so entrancing, this singing and dancing
Made my soul feel happy and warm.

And, much later that night, after eating a bite,
Mathilda, my muse, tucked me in.
She sat by my bed and, remembering, said
That today we needed no gin.

Then I lay through the night, with my memories bright
Of that wonderful day relived.
I did not feel tired, I was quite inspired
As I thanked my muse for her gift.

Writing a Poem

Then I sat on my chair, the next day, without care,
Rememb’ring the critters and birds,
When Mathilda came in and she said with a grin
“Here’s a bottomless bag of words.

They’ve all been used before; but you can do much more,
Because it will be quite sublime,
When with ease and with grace, words fall into their place,
As you choose all the ones that rhyme.

Stack them in a stanza, to build a bonanza,
String them up like colourful beads,
Let them soar in the air, turn them into a prayer,
These words can fulfill all your needs.

Make them sing about love, let them praise God above,
Make them fluid like tides in the ocean.
Let them twirl in a dance, have no fear ….. take a chance
Let them evoke an emotion.

Haiku or a fable, it’s all on the table.
You’ve wanted to do this for years.
Good meter and diction, your form and conviction
Will earn the respect of your peers.

Ballad or parody, sonnet or comedy
Use your pattern, rhythm and rhyme.
Write a psalm or a story, and give God the glory
To the climax …… make your words climb.

Write the truth or a fiction, and set no restriction,
Use these words as your very own.
They’re your gift from your muse, you decide what to use”.

Now, let it forever be known ……

……. That Mathilda, my muse, was there, helping me choose
All the words for this epic rhyme.
And she stayed by my side, as she told me with pride
That this was not wasting my time.

As long as I’m writing the stuff that’s exciting,
My efforts will capture a win.
There’ll be a good rating, that’s worth celebrating
With a tall glass, or two, of gin!

Artist Statement:

As an accountant I never thought of myself as very creative. (Creative Accounting is frowned upon.) Joining Open Studio, I discovered how to utilize my passion for words in a humorous, creative way. It opened a new chapter of my life I was looking for in my old age. It is wonderfully refreshing and liberating for me to meet with this great community regularly.

Remembering my early years in Germany, reciting poetry by the great masters of that country, and later, raising my children in Canada, reading ‘Horton Hears a Who’ and learning all those little nursery rhymes with them, inspired me.

Then, in Open Studio, Erica suggested we call in a muse for inspiration, so I let my imagination run free that night. In the wee hours of that next morning ‘Mathilda My Muse’ came to me, and I just knew it felt right. I imagine her middle-aged with unruly red hair and a sparkle in her eyes. She dresses colourfully and comfortably in flowing gowns and low heels, down to earth and grounded. She wants to be friends and laugh with me.

Through Mathilda, I got the idea to write rhyming verses about her teaching me to be creative. There was a vague storyline in my head, but as one rhyming verse after another developed, it felt like I was jumping from one rock to another in a babbling brook. It was fun and playful.

I remember smiling a lot as I landed on each new idea/verse. For example, in the poem we could have been drinking tea or wine, but gin was the word I needed for my rhyme. The idea of preparing space came from the notion of de-cluttering, something others from Open Studio were doing. I knew I had to include that too. The singing and dancing of critters and birds was a reflection of my great love for nature. Telling a humorous story in rhyme is a really fun way of using my time!

In my mind, all of us ‘Creatives’,  accomplished artists as well as novices like myself, are truly welcomed, inspired and encouraged by Erica’s accepting and supporting ways. In fact, I think Erica really is The Muse that paved the way for my imaginary muse Mathilda to find me.

I hope, when you watch the video Laurie Benson so lovingly recorded of me, showcasing her talent as well as mine in cooperation, you will feel your spirits lift and your heart rejoice and know this is all in fun.

Bio:

Evelyn Hopfner is a great-grandmother to two and full-time caregiver to her husband of 64 years, who suffers from dementia.

Evelyn immigrated to Canada from Germany and was an accountant/administrator by profession. Words and numbers have always been her great passion, as demonstrated in countless business writings.

She loves little children, dragonflies and dogs and all things in nature. Given a choice, Evelyn will opt for bright colours and sparkly things anytime, and she believes that life can best be enjoyed with a positive attitude and a healthy dose of humour.

Contact: evelynhopfner@gmail.com or find her on Facebook