Thursday, November 14, 2013



Lemon-yellow, crisp orange,
cranberry and sugar snap green,
sparkle beneath a deluge of dappled light
poured forth from sky's blue pitcher.

I wade in this autumn sea,
backstroke through memories
of mountains raked, bodies flopping,
burrowing, giggling - barking, digging,
rescuing; of maple helicopter races; 
a pony's fuzzy warm muzzle.

Wonder at today's silence, its stillness.

by Margaret Bednar, November 24, 2013

This is for Friday Flash 55.  Langsyne is a Scottish word (I think) and it means times long past, especially those fondly remembered.

Where are the children?  We would play outside all day on a crisp fall day.  Ride horses, build forts, rake leaves.  Growing up I had a dog, Sugar, who loved to play hide and seek.  My best hiding spot was in a pile of leaves.  She finally found me because I was giggling.


Anonymous said...

smiles - made me think of my son, who is named Langston (yes, after the poet.)

sumptuous imagery, Margaret. ~

TexWisGirl said...

really sweet. :)

Brian Miller said...

ha. love all the color that you put into this...and i like the thought of backstroking a bit through fall and all it brings....

Mary said...

What beautiful memories of autumn, Margaret. Your memories invoke my own!

G-Man said...

And once again Margaret Bednar your 'afterthoughts' are still Masterpieces. Thanks for churning this one out, I know you are busy with out-of-towners...:-)
Loved your Autumnal Memories 55
Thanks for playing, thanks for your HUGE support, and have a Kick Ass Week-End

Eric (Bubba) Alder said...

Love this, Margaret. I'm a sucker for autumnal poetry, but you did a wonderful job with your descriptive word choices here... SO fall.

Anonymous said...

Some great imagery and I definitely loved the colors. :-)

Grandmother (Mary) said...

What a gorgeous photo! And your rich word descriptions are lovely as well. Is this your yard?

Kathryn said...

This made me smile. I love the visual of wading in a sea of autumn, of backstroking through memories and those maple helicopters. :0)

Ginnie said...

Your image looks like a painting, Margaret! And yes, I, too, remember raking up the leaves and playing in them (no dog, however). The apple pickers would drive by late afternoon on their flatbed trucks and throw apples to us. I'll never forget it!