My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry.
To honor her, I’m sharing some of her poems. This poem, one of my favorites, explains why I am a writer and why I became an English teacher. Mom and I shared a love of words.
To read more of her poems, keep coming back here.
Stepping Stones to Shakespeare
Raynette Eitel, 1999
When you were a child, I offered stepping stones to Shakespeare,
Handing you delicious words, like mints, to melt upon your tongue.
The language did not take us straight to castles of the Bard
But along quiet paths twisting
Around enchanted forests through thick and leafy phrases.
You wore pajamas and smelled of innocence.
I held you close as ghosts whispered shadowy secrets.
We strolled straight through the looking glass together
Collecting magic moments like small white doves
Which we could later pull from a hat and watch fly away.
Oh my dear, the lands we saw and the characters we met
Gave us stories like soft silk scarves to slip from our sleeves when needed.
Each night we traveled our well-worn path with laughter or terror or sadness until
Your eyes became heavy with sleep.
I took your small sweet hand and led you straight
To your safe sailboat of a bed.
Kissing you softly, I sent you off
To embark on a midsummer night’s dream
Of “flights of angels singing you to your rest.”
Writing Rhetorically 