Magpie Tales #63, "The Heirloom"

Photo Courtesy of Tess Kincaid

The Heirloom

Polished love

Timeworn from living

Passion red

Serene blue

Worn and frayed; value intact

Treasured legacy

by Margaret Bednar

This is a "shadorma" poem - syllable count is 3-5-3-3-7-5 and no rhyming.  (my kind of poem as rhyming is not something that comes easily to me)  This is a kaleidoscope, but it reminded me of an old ring I saw in a vintage store recently.  It didn't fit my fingers.

Please visit "Magpie Tales" to see close to 100 poetic responses to the above photo.

I am back (and tired) from a wonderful vacation with five of my children.  We visited Charleston, SC, Hilton Head, and Savannah GA.  The photos and history I can't wait to share with you.  

Back and Relaxed? 207-210/365

A Cozy Inn off Battery Park, Charleston, SC.  From this porch, if it weren't for the grand old Oak Trees, I believe one could see Fort Sumter.

This was our first glimpse of the beach at Hilton Head, SC.

This photo was taken during a ghost walk tour in Savannah, GA.

We had a wonderful time on our Easter Vacation; just got back yesterday evening (Tuesday).  We were gone over a week and I am now recovering from the vacation with five of my children.  My husband was unable to take the time off of work so I relied heavily on my older girls to help out on this trip.  I can't wait to share the porches and cobblestone streets of Charleston, SC with you as well as the Sea Pine Forest Preserve and beachfront of Hilton Head.  We traveled further south to Savannah, GA and enjoyed the fabulous squares, historic homes and the Victorian cemetery, Bonaventure.  (Not to mention, Ghost Tours!)

But for now, I am battling "vacation fatigue" and laundry!  I can't wait to sit down and see what all my  blogger friends have been up to.  

"Come Back Tomorrow", 200-207/365

Kell's daily poetry prompt is to: Make a list of ten images of things you have seen in the last 24 hours.  Use all of them in a poem.  Well, I narrowed it down to our walk across the street - I easily found more than ten images.  This is a VERY free-flowing "poem".  The following photos were taken with my old camera as it was raining and really windy.  I am surprised how well they came out as I was hard pressed to keep the camera still.  I heard a tornado hit and destroyed a Lowe's a couple hours away from us.

Come Back Tomorrow!

Three girls practically flew 

to the farm, eager to see

the pony we hope to lease.

A welcoming whinny said "Hello",

Tabby smiled and scratched,

Hammock offered relaxation,

Tree and tire swing beckoned "Come play"!

Peacock preened,

Goat nodded,

"Salt & Pepper" stared

and "springtime" entered our hearts.

But storm clouds gathered; "Tornado Watch"!
Back home we trod, downhearted.

We'll come back tomorrow.  And wonder until then, which one is our new friend.

I will be taking a "Blogger Spring Break" 

and will be back on Tuesday, April 24th. 

I hope to show you a photo of the pony

we will be leasing.

Until then, Happy Easter!

"Intoxication", a Shadorma style poem

Low Country

Painted with fragrance

Senses reel

Peace tingles

Tempting further imbibing

Intoxication

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-15-11

Kell's daily poetry prompt for day 15 is: Write a poem that describes the wallpaper on your computer or the image on the last postcard you received.  The photo above graces my computer screen and I took this at Magnolia Plantation in South Carolina.    I learned about the "shadorma" style of poetry from One Stop Poetry's "Monday One Stop Poetry Form".   

"Responsibility"

Courtesy of Google images

I've often said to my husband, "I want to teach our kids responsibility.

For them to appreciate hard work and a job well done.  

To give equally in return for what they receive."

Next week I give up my cleaning lady.

So we can lease a pony and clean stalls.

Whose lesson is this?

The G-Man hosts Friday Flash 55.  Tell a story in 55 words or less.  (This story is not fiction - I haven't been without a cleaning lady in... over 14 years!!  And for what?  A barn shovel?  I think I'll forget my spring manicure too...  This farm is in our backyard - just cross the street and walk right on over!  They have all kinds of animals...  here are a few:

This is also featured over at my creative writing blog "HERE".  I just thought to share it here too.  

Magpie Tales #61, "The Art of Wine Tasting"

Photo Courtesy of Tess Kincaid for Magpie Tales

The Art of Wine Tasting

"There is an art
to wine tasting"
my date explained.
Hold the stem,
not the bowl.
Gently tilt the glass,
check the color.
Swirl to oxygenate
(on a flat surface).
And then it's time
to tip and stick
your nose in it.
And sniff."

"Finally the sip?" I asked.

He continued patiently,
"It should spread
across one's tongue
front to back,
side to side..."

"And then swallow!" I blurted

"Ah, no.  Not yet."
He continued,
"Slurp some air,
through puckered lips;
this releases more flavor."
He paused,
looked at me,
raised an eyebrow
and cautioned:
"Be careful not to drip!"

"Now, for the wonderful
slow burn?  I eagerly inquired.

"Patience," he chided.
"No.  Not yet.
It is advised to spit it out."

That was our first and last date.

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-14-11

* * * * *

This is a silly response to the phot, but it does have a hint of a real conversation of a long, long time ago...  In reality, my husband created a "monster".  I went from being VERY happy with a cheap bottle of White Zinfandel, to loving expensive wine.  And he has himself to blame.  I really don't enjoy wine tasting that much as I really only enjoy dry reds and I have a tendency to drink my wine too fast, I'm sure.

I will be taking next week off from Magpie Tales (and probably blogging) as I will be on Spring Break!  

Have a Wonderful Easter Holiday, my Magpie Friends!

"Kiwi" a poem 199/365

Kell's poetry prompt day 13 is:  Run around the house and grab 5 items that all begin with the same letter.  Write a poem as an ode to one of these items or that includes these items.   I grabbed: Kiwi, Knife, Kettle, Kodak camera, and sat down next to my Kitty.  It was way to tough to tie them together and I was hungry...

Kiwi

Not exactly a golden egg
At least not in our house
As no one seems to beg
to eat them.  I try to espouse
the importance of nutrition;
its vitamin C A and D!
"Eat a hairy fruit?" in unison
they cry.  Fine.  All the more for me!

Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-13-11

Hey, I ONLY had 5 minutes so don't expect much with poetry today!  :)  I am the only one that loves (or likes) kiwi in my family.  I have tried to sneak them in recipes, (I do peel the "hair" off of them) but my family always finds me out.  Oh well, like I said, more for me.

Check out my poetry book giveaway - on my sidebar or HERE.  I'm giving away two free poetry books on April 1st.

Today is also "Black and White Wednesday".  These pears weren't perfect as they had blemishes... but they were delicious! :)

The Poetry Bus, A Crooked Line 198/365

A Crooked Line

I am a crooked line;
not by birth nor chance.
My curvature is by choice.
Veering from convention
towards freedom of
body, mind, and soul.
A life spiraling upward,
emboldened, not embittered.
Embracing controversy,
challenging convention,
seeking reform.

I was a crooked line.
Will you pick up
where I left off?

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-12-11

(toward or towards? 5th line)

This poem is my tribute to Dr. Harriot K. Hunt (1805-1875).  She was among the first (if not the first) women to practice medicine in the USA.  She initially applied to Harvard and was accepted but then an uproar occurred and Harvard reversed its offer. She wrote her memoirs, "Glances and Glimpses" in 1856.  I am reading the out of print book via Google's ebookstore on my I-pad (it was a free download).  If interested, click "HERE".  If you do, skip ahead to 408 and 409 (use the bar at the bottom of the page and drag the circle to quickly get there) - Such AMAZING insight into marriage considering she never married and it was written in 1856!

The above poem is my first participation in "TFE's Poetry Bus" hosted this week by "DanaBug".  The prompt this week is to use "I am a crooked line" for the poem's opening line.

By the way, the hospital record's book in the photo above is over 100 years old 1896-1898.   My mom sent it to me years ago - some of the entries are kind of funny -  for example : Diagnosis: "Nothing" (at least he wasn't charged!) and Diagnosis: "RR Accident" and result: "Death from shock".  (does one really die from shock?)  And I love this one:  Diangosis: "Pregnancy" and Result: "Recovered".  A number of Diagnosis entries have a "?" after them.  How reassuring is that?  :)

"Fading Images", a poem 195-197/365

Fading Images

Barking dogs signal it might be time.
Bare feet slap against hardwood floor,
"Love you, I'll be back early afternoon"
rings in his hopeful little head.

Coolness presses against soft cheek.
Steam collects upon the windowpane.
Slumping shoulders indicate no such luck.
Feet tread a woeful retreat.  Again.

Time drudgingly marches on
weighing heavily upon his youthful heart.
"Love you, I'll be back early afternoon"
Deeply desired, is this timbered voice's return.

Daydreaming of guiding hands, teaching hands;
of conquering "shiny red", together.
Balancing and gliding on wheels of two.
Images of dad flicker.  And start to fade.

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-11-11

This is in response to Kell's (see my sidebar)  daily poetry challenge day #11.  It is:  Write a poem that begins with the last thing you can remember someone saying to you today or yesterday.  See if you can use that line two or three times.

My husband uttered the words "Love you, I'll be back early afternoon" to me early this morning.  I was still sleeping and they barely registered.   He is a GREAT dad and despite his long work schedule seems to always come through for the kids (and me).  So this poem is not about him (just wanted to clarify!)

* * * * *

One Stop Poetry's "Monday's One Stop Poetry Form" is hosting Anne Welch Shadorma.  She is introducing the poetic form "shadorma".  It is similar to the haiku and tanka, but of Spanish decent.  It has no rhyme scheme (yeah!) and is a syllabic poem with the following syllabic structure:  3/5/3/3/7/5.

I took the above poem and gave it a whirl!

Fading Images (2)

youthful heart

time weighs heavily

hopeful still

for bonding

images of dad flicker

slowly fade away

* * * * *

This is my first photograph taken with my NEW CAMERA!  (and that is why I have selected this for this week's "Creative Exchange" entry)  I was saving up for a Canon 5DMark II, but finally decided to go with the Canon EOS Rebel T2i.  I was given some advice that this is a great camera for the price and to focus on collecting a few great lenses. As I have been itching to get into manual mode, I think this will be at least a great starter camera for the next couple of years.  From what I can gather, this camera was used to film "Black Swan".  

So, my cranky kitty was rudely bothered from his "nap" to be my LAST "autofocus" photograph with my new camera.  I am now entering the world of ISO's, RAW, Aperture...  Wish me luck!

And one last macro with my "old" camera for "Macro Monday".

The Balloon, a poem

"Photo courtesy of Lauren Randolph for One Stop Poetry"

The Balloon

A boy smiles, arm upwardly extended
waving goodbye to his friend.
The friend floats out of sight
sailing toward the cotton-ball sky.
Swirling and traveling high above
it finally descends slowly,
gently observing a girl
jumping rope by herself.
Patiently it settles and waits.
Finally noticed and tentatively grasped.
A vibration of happiness
travels down the string's length.
Its job has just begun.
At least she no longer feels alone.

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-10-11

This poem is for One Stop Poetry's "One Shoot Sunday".  The guest photographer is Lauren Randolph and her interview is a fun, inspiring read.   I was imagining the balloon as an angel traversing the world helping children who are sad and/or depressed and then moving on when it accomplishes its goal in pursuit of the next child needing help.

Does anyone remember "The Red Balloon"?  I was intrigued by that movie in elementary school and have never forgotten it.  My husband just told me he hated that movie and was forced to watch it year after year in school...  LOL.  Maybe I will Netflix it and offer him a choice between a "chick" flick and "The Red Balloon" next weekend!  :)

Wow, what a busy week.  Guests and my son's high school senior prom.  He and all his friends were so elegant and gorgeous... Such a great group of "kids" :)  Can't believe my firstborn will be in college.  Wow... 

"A Legacy", a poem

The above book can be ordered "HERE".

"Kells" daily poetry prompt for today is to write a poem to our favorite letter of the alphabet.  I selected "S".  I have very little time to ponder this promt as we have a guest AND it is my oldest son's high school prom and we are excited to go visit him at school and take photographs!  The following "poem" is VERY free-form!

A Legacy

“Sally sells seashells by the seashore

She sells seashells on the seashell shore”

Olive and Lulu, born in 1882 and 1887.

As a youngster I couldn’t get enough

of their master storytelling and

tongue twisters.  At their feet I sat, listening;

“The seashells she sells are seashore shells,

Of that I’m sure.”

laughing and enjoying their frivolity.

Innocent fun, two uniquely educated

woman, inspiring a generation to live

life to it’s fullest.  To embrace the mind.

“She sells seashells by the seashore.”

A fascinating mixture of ladylike manners

and snappy, intensely focussed minds.

Worlds of imagination lurked behind 

Lulu’s laughing eyes and dancing voice.

She hopes she will sell all her seashells soon.

Olive a bit more demure, laughter a bit softer

was not outshone by any means.

Sweetly she matched her younger sister’s wit;

both master storytellers, they.

If neither he sells seashells

Nor she sells seashells

Life cloaked them with eternal youth

as their legacy is one of uplifting hearts. 

To this day when I hear “Sally’s Seashore”

tongue-twister of letter “S”,

Who shall sell seashells

Shall seashells be sold?

Olive Ruth & Lulu Belle Beckington live on.

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-9-11

* * * * *

These two woman never married and devoted their lives to education and teaching.  They bought a house and lived together, teaching in the state of Oklahoma.  (If a woman got married "back in the day", they had to give up their career.)  They were my grandfather's cousins. As I recall, the tongue twisters were NO problem for them!

Handsome Blue Heron, 194/365

The book of Kells daily poetry prompts (#8) is:  Turn your paper so that it's in the landscape position.  Write a poem about God or the universe or the horizon of the ocean with longer lines and see what happens.

Well, since I ALWAYS use my keyboard and computer, I have decided not to do this one.  I have company this week and have had very little "blogger-time" and apologize if my responses and comments have been minimal this week (and the previous as I was cleaning!!)

I took our guest to the bog garden to feed the ducks and geese and look what I found?  Isn't he (she?) handsome amongst this habitat?  So, I thought the above photos were poetry enough for today.  What do you think?  This is my pick this week for "Weekend Reflections".

"The Apology" a poem

Photo Courtesy of Google Images

The Apology

2 large doses of bitterness

1 quart of embarrassment

1 cup of light excuses

1 tablespoon of regret to garnish (optional)

Cut the bitterness in half, remove the extreme venom, and mash the sarcasm.  Put the sarcasm on hold and let it go with determination into a more tolerant state of mind.

Gather the awkwardness with the excuses into your heart.  When the feelings are in control, not paralyzing, combine it with the tolerant state of mind.

Season to perfection with compassion and persistence.  Offer it immediately, sprinkled with regret, if possible.  The apology may be e-mailed (optional).

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-7-11

Todays daily Kell's poetry writing prompt is:  Find a favorite recipe.  Now write a poem or in the style of that recipe about a family secret, yours or someone else's.  I tweaked it a bit and turned it into something most of us have a hard time doing.

Soothing Sounds, 193/365

Soothing Sounds

The gentle rain tumbled rhythmically
upon the bright umbrellas,
a delightful morning symphony:
Pitter patter, splish, splosh, drip, drop!
A bird's staccato chirp chimed in.
An oak tree gently swayed.
Creating a lovely morning rhapsody,
which cleansed and soothed our souls.
And when into the kitchen I walked
what sight beheld my eyes?
Kitty enjoying my comfy chair
and Puppy tucked beneath.
Forego my morning coffee clutch
I must, as how could I
disturb these two
relaxing in my favorite spot?

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 5-6-11

Day 6 - the poetic writing prompt for today from "Kells" (see my side button) is:  Write a poem in two sections about two completely different things.  Have the title link both items today in a surprising way.

Well, I twisted it a bit and used two photos that had nothing to do with each other and hastily created a poem from it.  And not to be left out is the little guy below.  His nickname is "MiniMe" (He resembles the big dog above).

"The Dandy", a poem, 191-192/365

The Dandy

Quite the dandy drake is he.
With emerald green hat
and orange painted toes
he poses and preens
upon the hillside for all to admire.
Fancy white neckband
atop a chestnut colored vest,
he is sure to please the ladies.
His dappled gray suite of fine quality
is adorned with a hanky of smashing blue.
But all of this is fickle indeed,
for how nice would it be
if he didn't fly off but stuck around
to help with the raising of the babies!

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens 365, 4-5-11

The poetry prompt today from "Kells" daily writing prompts is: Write a poem about facts (or wierd facts) that you know.  Well, I was shocked to find out that Mallard ducks do not mate for life as I loved the book "Make Way for Ducklings" when I was a child and it made it seem the pair lived together "happily ever after"!   But no, the male abandons the family (when the eggs are laid) and sometimes starts another relationship.  After mating season, the male "relaxes" during molting season in a secluded, food-rich spot leaving the female(s) to incubate and raise and protect her 8-13 ducklings.

The following photo is for "Black & White Wednesday" and "Weekend Reflections" which I will hook up with later this week:

Magpie Tales #60 "Liquid Sunshine", 188-190/365

Photo courtesy of Tess Kincaid of Willow Manor

The above photo prompt is for "Magpie Tales" 60.  I also combined this with my own challenge of using Kells daily poetry prompts for the month of April.  Todays challenge:  Make a list of seven words that have the same vowel sounds and use them in a repetitive way throughout a poem.   My seven are (slowly, window, toe, hoping, overflow, Gogh's, flowing, + golden + woeful).  I am also participating in NaPoWriMo2011 - (National Poetry Writing Month).  The challenge is to write a poem a day in April.  So far over 500 people have entered - hop over and take a look at the participants!

Liquid Sunshine

Drops of liquid sunshine slowly

dance upon my window pane,
tapping a woeful good morning

as I gently stretch from head to toe

hoping my garden will overflow

with vibrant color and intensity;

worthy of Vincent Van Gogh's

turbulent, flowing strokes

of prussian blue and golden yellow.

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens, 4-4-11

& for One Stop Poetry's "One Stop Poetry Form":  Hosted by Gay Cannon this week of a wonderful poetry blog herself...click HERE.   Due to time limitations, I reworked the above poem into a prosody - more specifically, a iambic tetrameter... I think that's it.  I like the 1st version better, but it is always good to try these as they do have a sing-songy feeling to them (and they make me think harder..) And now as I'm looking this over, I'm thinking I'm supposed to have 4 or 8 lines.... hmm.  (Gay Cannon - will be here to help, I'm sure!  :)

Liquid Sunshine - Version II

Upon my window pane it splashed;
a liquid sunshine slowly danced
a woeful morning song "tap tap".
I gently stretched from head to toe
and hoped my garden would become
a vibrant painting like Van Gogh's
with restless blues and flowing golds.

Virginia Bluebells I spied at the Bog Garden.  They have pink buds which are not really noticeable in this photo.  This is for "Macro Monday".   The photo has quite a bit of noise and I am surprised as I used my tripod and my 2 second timer.  Maybe there just wasn't enough light - or maybe I need a new Canon or Nikon camera :)

A beautiful carpet of yellow greeted us as we entered the Bog Garden.  This used to be a swampy dump and look what beauty can now be enjoyed by everyone.

The above photo reminds me of a Japanese painting.

I waited and waited to get a perfect shot in this setting.   I love the above idea, but I am going back to get a better photographic shot of this golden setting.  The above is my choice for "The Creative Exchange", which isn't about the perfect shot, but more about the moment.

This is the newest edition to the Bog Garden.  My daughter calls the above bridge the "Cinderella Bridge".  Do you notice her regal wave?