Tribute to Edwin Forrest Ward

Edwin Forrest Ward – a Tribute 

By NC Weil 

In every community, at its heart 

Is a person who either made it start 

Or took it on as their own commitment, 

To grow, sustain, to care what it meant. 

For writers and songsters in Denver here 

The man who stood in the middle is clear – 

Ed Forrest Ward set up a venue, 

Inviting us all to be on the menu – 

Stories, Stories spread the plate 

To write, to tell, to captivate. 

You and Marcia reserved the Merc 

And Imagemaker got to work 

To craft the invites to us all:

“Fourth Tuesday – heed the siren’s call 

Of voices varied, come and share. 

Creative sparks will fill the air!” 

So many have, for ten fine years 

Embraced assembly with our peers. 

Leading off with a Philly tale 

Or seventies Denver: he’d unveil 

A place we maybe thought we knew, 

But from Ed’s unique point of view: 

Gone in a Taxi to the Dark Side 

Or with Lucia on a Pow-wow ride, 

Or a ghost from a bygone neighborhood 

The man in the attic lonely stood 

And watched cops puzzling in the street – 

Where can he be? He’s got them beat. 

All through life your stories rose 

Insisting to you: Stop! Compose! 

Share your thought and incidents, 

Steep them in your eloquence. 

An impresario is one 

Who trades in the phenomenon 

Of gathering, and drawing out 

The storytellers round about – 

The songs, the memoirs, and the fiction 

Made us richer through depiction – 

The deadline looms to stand on stage 

Painting us all another page. 

Thank you, Ed, for the groups you founded, 

Those magic nights we sat astounded. 

And we remember, by the way, 

That aphorism you liked to say: 

“A contract with the muse is a contract for life” 

You kept her happy – she’s been your midwife!

The Ballad of the Grand Traverse, by NC Weil

The Ballad of the Grand Traverse

 By NC Weil 

I'll introduce our hardy team, 

Training for this since 2018: 

Page and Josh, equipment geeks, 

Skiing and suffering endless weeks. 

They’ve never made it all the way 

Crested Butte to Aspen, night then day,   

Forty miles of ice and snow, 

Hoping frigid winds don't blow. 

First attempt, turned back by weather, 

Then Page must pause to be a father, 

His son born the day of the second try, 

He had to let the race go by. 

In 2020 Covid hit, 

Every gathering stopped by it. 

 

So of this Grand Traverse I’ll tell: 

It didn’t start so very well: 

Early on, a ski pole breaking, 

Then Page’s hands commenced to shaking, 

Legs soon cramping – are we finished? 

Electrolytes those spasms diminished. 

Now to the slog they bend their wills, 

Up the dark and towering hills 

While moon peers down and pairs spread out, 

Spandex and plastic round about, 

Five hundred headlamps up the climb 

Laboring to make good time – 

The Brush Creek cutoff’s coming soon – 

Steady striding is your tune. 

Climbing more, up to Star Pass – 

Scarf those snacks, step on the gas, 

Make it to Checkpoint Number Two, 

Up on top with a moonlit view – 

High above the Taylor River, 

What a sight – it makes you shiver! 

A leg-burning grind to Taylor Pass, 

Knowing the Mutants are hauling ass, 

Up and over 12,000 feet, 

Lungs a-throbbing, thighs dead beat 

And mercifully, a downhill slope 

With sunrise greetings – sign of hope! 

Skiing across the top of the world, 

A vista of peaks in snow unfurled 

Down and up to Barnard Hut, 

The last check-in for your weary butt. 

Well past halfway – you’re going to make it! 

Not the record – you won’t break it,

Except the one you’re aiming for: 

Your body’s strength you must explore 

Why else be in this crazy race, 

Not just the distance but the pace? 

Eighty teams are turning back, 

Not fast enough where slopes might crack 

And avalanches take them down – 

Reversed, their path leads back to town. 

But you are fast enough to pass 

So on you go for your final gasp. 

Aspen Mountain, here you come, 

Having earned encomium – 

Wittiest team name convergence – 

You’re the Forty Year Old Virgins! 

Prize in hand, your bottle of rum,

On to a meal and beer you come.

But now that you’ve gone all the way, 

“Experienced” is yours to say. 

Way to go, you hardy mensches, 

Wowing those of us warming benches. 

Witnesses to long rehearsal,

We laud you for your Grand Traversal!

April 2, 2023