Several years ago the school at which I used to teach, having received a generous donation from a kindly alumnus, built a gigantic field house in the form of an inflatable dome. It was a truly noteworthy structure, especially in a small town, where, adjacent to our two hockey arenas, its alabaster bulk brooded over the surrounding fields like a Zeppelin about to rise into the ether.
The dedication of this imposing erection was of course attended by suitable festivities, including assemblies and speeches; but I felt the ceremonies lacked something—to wit, an ode. Certainly in times past it would have been unthinkable for so mammoth an accomplishment to occur without suitable words from the local Poet Laureate.
But my school lacked a poet laureate (although I suppose it might
someday add one to the staff, provided, of course, that he could also do
something useful, like coach a sport) so I decided to supply the need.
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THE DOME
(A Poem)
I need not wander far from home
For inspiration; no, my mind
Of thoughts is full--in fact, inflated--
And my spirits are elated
And my ravished eyes dilated
As I contemplate THE DOME.
Vast expanse of supple plastic--
Strong and sleek and so elastic-- To our eyes a sight fantastic
Towering o’er the new-dug loam.
In its splendor so stupendous
In its grandeur so tremendous
Kind indeed the gods to send us
Such a marvel. Hail, O DOME!
Tolstoy’s pen and heavenly choirs
And a very weighty tome.
Rapt with wonder we behold thee
As the air-pumps do unfold thee
And thy wonders yet untold be
Laid before us, mighty DOME.
Through all lands thy fame is
ringing;
Guns are booming, choirs singing,
Cars are speeding, planes are
winging,Ships are tossing on the foam:
Kings and scholars, folk discerning,
All to Minnesota turning,
All consumed with febrile yearning
In their haste to view THE DOME.
London seem quite misbegotten,
And who gives a hoot for Rome?
Taj Mahal and Notre Dame, too.Chartres? Invalides? Versailles? Pooh!
Our school proudly boasts THE DOME.
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But,
alas, the works of man are transitory. All comes to an end. The Dome came to
an end on April 15, 2018. It seemed appropriate that I add additional verses to
my original confection:
Elegy for the Disaster of April 15, 2018
Muses! Hear me in my
sorrow!
Cloaks of mourning I must
borrow...Here today and gone tomorrow:
Thus it was with the great DOME.
So it came, that fatal one
day!
We will not forget that
Sunday--Not a Saturday or Monday--
When cruel nature crushed the DOME.
For in April bloomed no
flowers,
Sang no robins, fell no
showers,It just snowed for hours and hours
And the snow destroyed the DOME.
Tiny flakes accumulating
In abundance, not abating,Piling ever higher, waiting
For the flattening of the DOME.
Nature’s wrath was not yet
sated
So the storm had not
abated...It was suddenly deflated
And in ruins lay the DOME.
And so came the news
appalling:
With a crash, like empires
falling.The great structure meanly mauling,
Little snowflakes felled the DOME.
No, we’ll not forget that
Sunday
In mid-April--’twas no fun
day.Ah! Sic transit gloria mundi.
R.I.P., once-mighty DOME!
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-- Brian A.
Libby, 4/16/18
