A sense of humor, too

To think of Evelyn only as the holy, mystical, praying poet is to miss an enchanting facet of her personality. Her sense of humor pops out in some of her poetry as she addresses unexpected subjects.

DETROIT’S ENCOMIUM

Hurrah for Cincinnati!

The pins are down; the game is won!

Ohio’s Southern Bowling Five

Are bright in the Eighth District sun.

The day was hot as fever’s breath;

The men were hard to muster;

But each man battled to the death

To beat Detroit or “bust’er.”

Old Cleveland staggered to the fore

And toppled Detroit by forty-three.

But Cincy’s twenty-five-sixty score

Has stymied both, as you can see.

Hurrah for Cincinnati!

Detroit’s the home of gray-haired sighs

And Cleveland’s hopes are shattered thin.

The Southern men have seized the prize.

Come on, fellows, take the pennant home.

Shout your glory to the wind.

Heave your chests, all medal-pinned.

“The last is first”– you’ve heard the “pome.”

Let the weary pennant-seekers

Roll their last ball in the dust.

Hurrah for Cincinnati!

Faith’s the watchword – faith and trust.

Now the trembling hordes are silent.

Now the paeans gladly ring.

Hang your trophy on the mantle –

You can have the “doggone” thing!

Evelyn Coffey