no isbn--private publication
47 pages/$9
Time off is not necessarily time out. “Island Time,” Natalie Lobe’s second poetry collection based on her summers on Block Island, is rich as the blackberry cobbler she creates and as enchanting as the meteors she watches, lying with her family on the night beach. Again, Ms. Lobe has poured her breadth of experience, her warmth and her expressive talent into the book, letting us see, smell, hear and feel the sea and better understand the world around us. —Elisabeth Moser, Spirit Pond and Other Maine Poems

Natalie Lobe lives in Annapolis, Maryland and visits Block Island every summer with her husband, children and grandchildren. She is especially happy to be collaborating with grandson, Nathan, in preparing this book. Her collection of poems, Connected Voices, was published in 2006. Natalie teaches poetry in the schools and is an active spokesperson for the arts and the environment.

Nathan Bickell is the grandson of Natalie Lobe. He has been visiting Block Island with his family since his childhood. Nathan took up photography as a freshmen in high school, and it has been a serious hobby of his ever since. He is also a member of the cross-country, track and baseball teams at Annapolis High School, in Annapolis Maryland.

REVIEW BY CHERYL TOWNSEND
ISLAND TIME - Block Island Poems by Natalie Lobe
with photography by Nathan Bickell
Black Island Press, 3413 Wilshire, Greensboro, NC 27408
21pp

“Think of your poem as a beacon” is the first line of the first poem in this second collection of poetry by Natalie. A beacon…showing us in, guiding the way. Enter into vacation time and revel in its virtues.

Gentle poems of essence, of place, of visual relaxation - ebb and flow and stable. Smell the roses. Listen to the breeze. “Shine one word at a time.”

Yet they also speak of appreciation, conservation, and a duty to preserve. She asks that we “Make your every image live/for coming generations” and herein she is. Natalie has struck me as an acute observer, a studier and a recorder. Her verbal photography puts you there with her, toes in the sand and sharing.

From “Black Rock”
Marsh grass, scrub pine, my hair,
even the rocks lean towards Algarve
where Portuguese women,
their red and green scarves blowing
against the wind, walk on the beach,
bend to pick up mollusks, then chasten
children dodging waves, sandpiper style.

I wish the photographs were in color . . . to match the vividness of the poetry, but even in their black and white exhibition, they extoll the succulent landscape, the happy faces, the scenic escapades.

Further poems of clam digging, wind surfing, licorice dolphins, ferry rides, stargazing, the inevitable footprints in the sand and “BLACKBERRY PICKING” where she muses “I could have stayed on the porch, with a love poem/or a daydream.”

But mostly I took in her enjoyment of the elements. Her soaking in the sun, giving in to the wind, allowing the massaging of the water and listening to the rain. “A late August shower taps/paradiddle on he porch roof” .. Paradiddle, indeed. I do need to mention that the aforementioned photographs were taken by her grandson, who obviously enjoys nature as well.