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A collection of poems by Joan Cassidy Vayo (1930-2019).

1979 Joan Vayo at writing desk Joan Vayo

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.

cherry cobbler
Cherries

Cherries

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Mom wrote this poem, called simply Cherries, when her granddaughter Lucy was just a few months old. It may be that this cute little outfit inspired her. Cherries Lucy’s little yellow dress is cherried Take her to the hammock under cherry treesand in the early evening wrap herin the childhood cherry spreadremembering another eveningwhen we rode a ferris wheelafter a day of cherry picking Grandchildren and sister loved the cherriessent for summer birthdaysand from a country marketwe wooed each otherwith…

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‘I missed you long before you died’

‘I missed you long before you died’

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This poem’s a tough one. Mom wrote it 19 years ago, still in mourning for the loss of her brother. Ray. Sweet baby Ray. This sounds ridiculous as I type it, but we only use that brand of barbecue sauce in our home, in honor of Uncle Ray. Mom was delighted when we served it to her on pulled pork those last years before we lost her, too. Both lost to Parkinson’s Disease. Today is World Parkinson’s Day. If you’ve…

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Poems for Good Friday

Poems for Good Friday

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Earlier this year, while sifting through the 240 gallons of books Dad shipped our way, this one caught my eye: Petals is a work of poetry and verse compiled long ago by the Sisters of Mercy in Connecticut for their Reverend Mother. Mom’s collection of poetry books included this copy, signed by her aunt Margaret, Sister Amabilis. As I flipped through the pages, the first several poems credited to Sister Amabilis were already familiar. But toward the end of the…

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Sister Amabilis
‘There is no money in Heaven’

‘There is no money in Heaven’

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Last fall’s post about Sister Amabilis is by far the most-read story on this family blog. Hundreds of her first-grade students – now grown with children and even grandchildren of their own – fondly remember that tiny nun with the huge heart. Thank you to all who shared memories here or on Facebook. As we continue to sort through a mountain of family archives, delightful surprises about my mom’s aunt keep popping up. Easter eggs, if you will. Let’s start…

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Mom & Bunny 1939
‘Sunday Man’

‘Sunday Man’

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No, not that Jack Cassidy. But yes, Mom had an uncle named Jack whose gregarious personality both flattered and flustered. As girls, Mom and her sister, Bunny, would scurry into the pantry to hide from that big personality. I did the same years later. As a child, I cowered from my uncle John Cull’s Eugene Levy-esque eyebrows. We shy lasses eventually grew up to appreciate these fine gentlemen. Mom wrote this poem about her uncle Jack Cassidy, a steamfitter, 13…

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Helen B. Happy sign from the Cassidy house
Work like Helen B. Happy

Work like Helen B. Happy

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Today is Grandma Cassidy’s birthday. And it’s Poetry Day. Born in 1903, Grandma wouldn’t have permitted us to calculate her age, had the luck of the Irish kept her with us all these years. Saints preserve us! Me sainted Grandmother has made her home in heaven since 1991. I was “great with child” at the time, with middle-son John on the way and couldn’t travel to attend her funeral in New Haven. I’ve always believed her blithe spirit lives on…

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Shakespeare soap
‘Out, damned virus!’

‘Out, damned virus!’

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Are you getting choked up about poor Princess Beatrice of England, who may need to postpone her wedding yet again? Me neither. We’re all figuring out this new Coronavirus lifestyle. And a good many of us are doing what we can to make the best of it. Take John & Aubrie, for example. They’ve been planning their April 18 wedding for nearly a year. Very traditional, very sweet. No one could have guessed COVID-19 had other plans in mind. After…

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pair of foxes in the spring
First signs of spring

First signs of spring

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Does anyone still watch for “the first robin of spring”? That was a game, of sorts, growing up in western Massachusetts. Winters were so long that even a whisper of spring gave us a real lift. Sidenote: I fondly remember the annual family activity of clearing the driveway of the half-foot or so of packed snow and ice. It was genuinely fun chipping away the giant chunks during the February thaw and again in the spring. The only other chilly…

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A rose on the altar on Ash Wednesday, Mom and Tom, 1985
Poems: Ash Wednesday, Psalm

Poems: Ash Wednesday, Psalm

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Here are two of Mom’s poems to commemorate Ash Wednesday, the start of the Lenten Season. ash wednesday nails in the nesta night bird falling and in the housessomethingout of a dark holewet now on the courthouse stepsa dwarfthumbing his nose the bridein jewels before the frosted windowwaits the wind stirsa star under the ground the gold eggs gleam ~ joan vayo 24 February 1979 psalm what birdwaits here in darknessunder the death of the beloved by the lake the…

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New Haven Policemen
The dancing policeman

The dancing policeman

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I kid you not: a big star once invited my Grandpa Cassidy to go on the road with him. And not as a security officer – as a tap dancer! Mom’s sister, Bunny, just shared this story with us last week, when Gary and I were visiting Dad in Connecticut. Poor thing, I think I asked her to repeat the story three times – I just couldn’t believe it! Grandpa was a “cop on the beat” in New Haven, Connecticut….

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