Saturday, May 16, 2015

Meet ALMA RICHIE-President of Dixie Poets

Alma loves magic as much as poetry.
Alma Richie was born in Wilford, Idaho. His mother loved words and was an English major.  She taught her son to love poetry at a very young age.  Alma supports the idea of Mary Oliver that poetry is not formal speech but like conversation or like time spent with a friend.   Alma believes the notion that life-affirming poems fired by belief in the human and spiritual needs reflect hope in a time when much of the world feels unreal and inhuman.   He loves what T. S. Elliot said about poetry:  Private experience and at its greatest intensity may become universal.  This is called Poetry and may be affirmed in verse. 

Alma currently is president of the Dixie Poets and helps direct the Redrock Writers Seminar in St. George.  Dixie Poets meets on the 1st and 3rd Tuesdays  from 2-4 pm in the St. George Public Library and has about 20 members with a monthly lesson and critiques of poetry at each meeting. For activities, see Active in the community, Dixie Poets sponsors an annual YOUTH POETRY CONTEST with the Washington County School District, serves as judges for English Quest, participates in organizing POETRY in THE PARK (see and the St. George Book Festival, teaches in local schools, submits to the Mesquite Art and Poetry Contest, DSU's Southern Quill Magazine and claims many award winning poets.  Alma has published a book of poetry entitled: Hear the Whispers of the Ancient Ones. Available here. Below is a sample of Alma's poetry.

ALMOST by Alma Richie

A time for birds
to fly in southern skies
over glittering seas
like coins tossed towards a flowering
moon. A place where butterflies dance on
the edge after a long rainy afternoon.

Then within my reach I find the end
of the world.  Spiders and their
Italian looms turn gardens into
a reflection of rainbows.  Every bird
rises in a new breeze while nature’s pipes
release moisture on my withered skin.

The sap hides but knows rain
beating on wooden drums.  Each
shimmering leaf dances its last fall
to earth alone.  Again the stir of a breeze
across my face brushes my cheeks as if
to say— remember me when I am gone.

1 comment:

  1. Alma is obviously doing one of his magical tricks in the picture. Maybe it should be noted that he is a magician.


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