Sunday, November 22, 2015

"I'm Thankful"

I will be taking a blogger break for the next week.  I will not be posting but will be catching up visiting and commenting on numerous past poetry challenges and posts made this week.  A whirlwind of activity - finishing up the week homeschooling my two youngest and at the end of this month will be moving half of our household possessions to the mountains!

I am thankful for my fellow poets and friends here in blogger-land and wish you a wonderful ending to my favorite month of November.

Experimenting with my poetic voice - it really is a storytelling of sorts, that is reading poetry.  I erased numerous times, not happy with the way my voice fades in and out and stresses certain words. Not really thrilled with this version, but I have confidence with time I will improve.

I'm Thankful

Bittersweet twines,
grasps a hold of bricks and posts
as kale flashes lavender corsages;
no deferring to colors smoldering.

I'm thankful for these competitors
of late fall's seasonal color,
splashing vibrant hues
amongst backdrop of waning glory,

for tyrannical crows
who claim field and fence
where little bluebirds and cardinals
mid-summer freely danced and swooped.

I'm thankful for the westerly sinking sun
quietly draping hills and valleys
with soothing shades of velvety grays
and crystal kisses,

for crisp air that chills my cheeks,
makes me hurry homeward
toward promises of smoldering hearth,
entwined arms and legs.

I'm thankful for celebrating together
the richness of another season's
coming and going and the bountiful gifts
that life and death provide.

by Margaret Bednar, originally written November 20, 2014

Friday, November 20, 2015

"If You Step upon a Crack"

If you Step upon a Crack...

Skipping ahead he avoids cracks
as not to break my mother's back -
head bent low upon his task, his concern dear.

My hand yearns for the warmth of his,
to have him safely by my side -
yet I forgo such a tether,

try banishing the "what if" of terror
that may lurk beneath Manhattan streets,
along well-worn Brooklyn walkways.

Paris is an ocean away, but as we idled
in the quagmire of George Washington Bridge,
"what if" kept taunting

and I could see no way of escape -
certainly not down.  I'm afraid of heights anyway,
so we turned up the music and sang.  Loudly.

The inevitable comes; he steps on a crack -
assures me it's just a game.  Yet, in a heartbeat
I'd gladly sacrifice my back,

to never silence children's voices,
never stifle their dreams, their talents.  I wish
it was as easy as that.

by Margaret Bednar, November 20, 2015

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Herotomost's Friday Challenge - Heart's Desire"