How Still the Riddle

Francine Tolf began writing poems when she was 20-at first rhyming poems, fledgling sonnets and ballads, and later through several decades developed her craft in various forms without losing her love and gift for rhythm, sound, and music: "My golden hair is turning gray, / my sins are sinned, my wild oats flung. / Now's the time to pen a book / of rhymes for children old and young." The importance and appeal of nature, relationships, language, and the mysteries of our intricate connections with each other recur in these poems: "For now there's neither eye nor voice nor sun / to question what you are, or feel, or see. / In kindness, I grant anonymity, / a gift no dawn can ever give. So come / and know some peace a while, be part of me." These poems are comforting while mindful of the uncertainties that challenge our lives: "There is no one to cry my secret to. / A deaf wind whispers, Even if there were, / your lover could not share it if he knew. / He could not pierce the secret to its core / and share it with you even if he knew." Francine's late sister, Gale Tolf, created the beautiful ink and watercolor drawings. Gale found inspiration in myth, legend, and fairytale, a perfect complement to these thoughtful, loving, and life-fulfilling poems.