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A collection of poems by Joan Cassidy Vayo (1930-2019) and a few others.

1979 Joan Vayo at writing desk

A lyric poet, Joan (aka Mom) wrote poetry from her grade school years until just before her death at age 89.

Her work was published in Seventeen magazine, Yankee, America, and others. She self-published a collection of her poetry, titled when in the rain a snow.

Family blog posts tagged with Poems include her poems, plus writing from a few other family members.

1959 Paula & Grandpa Vayo with Dave
‘We Three, In One Big Chair’

‘We Three, In One Big Chair’

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One hundred years ago, Grandpa Vayo was counting down the days until he married. He’d already moved to Paducah, Kentucky, and started his new job in advertising. He even authored a daily poetry column, Songs of Life, in The Paducah Sun newspaper. I wonder if he warned Grandma (his betrothed, Lucie Plante) how often her new surname would be misspelled and mispronounced. After all, “Vayo” rhymes with “mayo.” Sometimes, the condiment won out: This poem of Grandpa’s caught my eye…

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1926 Grandpa Vayo
Grandpa’s trust

Grandpa’s trust

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Thanks to my second-cousin Mark, I just came upon a dozen or more poems Grandpa Vayo wrote shortly after he relocated to Paducah in 1926. He was the new Advertising Manager at the J.A. Rudy & Sons department store. Grandpa must have been so lonely! Paducah, Kentucky, is far away from Brewer, Maine. And this was a century ago. It was months before Grandma traveled all those miles to marry him on Thanksgiving Day. A poet, musician, and artist, Grandpa…

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2026 Weather app says 98 degrees
September heat wave

September heat wave

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Right now, our “Feels Like” temperature is just two degrees short of triple digits. And it’s September! I’ve always been an indoor cat, so there’s really nothing for me to complain about, as long as the air conditioning holds out longer than this heat wave. Here’s a poem Grandpa Vayo wrote a century ago. It was published in the Paducah Sun on August 27, 1926. To me, it feels as miserable as the weather. Pessimism The still-born day breaks in…

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2020 Madison owls
The night owl and the early bird

The night owl and the early bird

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Mom and Dad had distinctly different sleep patterns. Dad was the early-to-bed, early-to-rise type. I wondered what type of feathered friend an official Early Bird might be. Judging from the above picture, maybe a goose? Mom, on the other hand, loved to stay up late. She was the ultimate Night Owl: Reading, chatting with her adult children when they visited, even writing poetry: Warm Where You Were The early riser leaves meto a later hour You crest in morningwhile I…

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Eagle rock photo by Dean Jeffrey
‘The First Turtle’

‘The First Turtle’

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It was always a treat to visit Grandma and Grandpa Cassidy when we were growing up in the 1960s. The drive to New Haven, Connecticut, took about 2.5 hours. Sometimes we’d stop at a breakfast diner and Dad would cough up a few nickels for the booth’s jukebox so we could play a song or two. Most often it would be On Top of Spaghetti, that old classic. It was always a thrill when Dad started pointing, “There it is…

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https://flickr.com/photos/number7cloud/
Goodbye, Dolly

Goodbye, Dolly

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This one hurts. My first view of Dolly Parton was on a TV commercial in the 1960s. She and Porter Wagoner were pitching Breeze detergent. Free towels – collect ’em all – especially the one that was huckleberry blue. Living in New England, I’d never heard an accent like that before. It made me laugh. Huckleberry blue. And just to prove that everything is available online, here’s Miss Dolly: Much will be said in the coming days about Dolly Parton….

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1976 Paula on couch
‘The Terrible Teens’

‘The Terrible Teens’

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My brother Dave continues to delve into his storage box of childhood memories. Some are delightful, others bring a tear. This one makes me cringe. It’s a poem from the literary annual our high school produced each spring. Either I didn’t give it a title or there wasn’t room for one … so let’s call it “The Terrible Teens.” This is from 1975, my junior year. P.S. I really couldn’t care less about “our team” winning or losing. But it…

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The Emperor's New Clothes illustration
‘the emperor’s old clothes’

‘the emperor’s old clothes’

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It’s been nearly two centuries since Hans Christian Andersen wrote the fairy tale “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” Do you remember the story? Two con men trick the vain emperor, who thinks only of himself and his fancy clothes, no matter what the cost. They “weave” him a magnificent set of new clothes at great expense. The clothes are magical, in that they’re invisible to anyone who is incompetent or stupid. The emperor can’t see a stitch of the clothes –…

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turtle soup recipe
The Turtle Man

The Turtle Man

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Every year about this time, the church picnics begin. Every weekend there’s one, and for decades the prime drawing card (and money-maker) was the same: Turtle Soup. Farmer Gary loves Turtle Soup. When I found a family recipe the other day, it got him to telling stories. Not just about the soup. About the man. Johnny Lange. The Turtle Man: Johnny Lange (pronounced “LONG-ee” … Gary would never forgive me if I didn’t add that Johnny had a brother whose…

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1938 Mom, Bunny, and cousins
‘Sparky’

‘Sparky’

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Another letter from Mom to her aunt Sister Amabilis … Mom was 15 years old at the time. Sister Amabilis (aka Aunt Marguerite) was teaching first graders in the Hartford, Connecticut, area. Here’s the news (plus a poem) Mom sent on that July day in 1945: Dear Marguerite, We had a wonderful party on the Fourth of July. Joe was the real instigator and Grandma would do anything for him. There were hot dogs and cake, soda and watermelon. There…

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