"Time"

Silhouetted by Times Square

You're invited to listen:  https://soundcloud.com/margaretbednar/time-1

Time

It's as if I'm looking through a keyhole,
the two of them silhouetted against a future bright.
One looms large, admired, fedora tilted over one eye.
The other?  Innocence, unaware of flaws in his hero.
Youth demands attention; I make excuses,
my heart tender, understanding both as only a mother can.

If only the hero can comprehend,
for a moment look down, truly see how similar they are.
How once he filled my minutes and hours
with words.  Does he remember I listened?
Know I still thrill with the wonder inside him?

Youth needs a hero and he's been chosen.
My youngest and oldest;
boy and young man upon a threshold.
Hero can lend a guiding hand, provide a key
for frontiers yet to be explored.

Worship won't last forever - nor should it.
But the honor, for as long as it is offered,
is a gift few ever receive.

by Margaret Bednar, January 27, 2016



This is for "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Bits of Inspiration - Keyhole" hosted by Susie Clevenger. (and will be posted for participation at Midnight, Jan 27th)

Also linked with dVerse Open Link Night #166

Had a fabulous week long trip to NYC - stayed right next to the Empire State Building.  My daughter was interviewing to drama programs at colleges - already accepted into 2!!  Decisions have yet to be made.   We enjoyed the closing down of the city streets due to winter storm "Jonas", enjoyed numerous Broadway shows and had a lovely day at "The Metropolitan Museum of Art" with my oldest son.

My oldest son loves his younger brother dearly, but often does not understand the importance of spending time with his younger sibling - how much it means to my youngest son who truly is excited every time his older brother's name is mentioned...  Both are highly creative, talkative (I mean TALKATIVE) and highly enthusiastic - and they can wear one out.  I wish my oldest had a little more patience for his younger "mini-me".

Empire State Building

"Morning Song"

Morning Song

Wrens and siskens flit upon loblolly and shortleaf;
musical notes following us,
harmonizing with crunch of gravel
and whisper of tumbling brook.

Beneath longleaf pines,
we trod upon sun dappled parchment,
spirits lifting with forested blend
of late morning song.

Blue sky, Blue Jay a fitting encore.

by Margaret Bednar, January 17, 2016

This is in response to the "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Sunday Mini-Challenge" hosted by Manic-D-Daily - a prompt with a broad range of interpretation - I chose the metaphor route... Or tried to.

"Undone"

"Undone"

Her lacy corset's frayed,
parchment thin.
Season's light shines through,
settles upon delicate arms,
skywardly raised
as slender spirits come undone,
slip outside her bark, disrobe -
drape remnants upon crisp, cool breeze.

Finches bob and sing
alongside tasseled catkins,
closed, awaiting spring
but first the forest hushes, stills
joins the dance,
doff's colorful robe -

prepares for winter's white.

by Margaret Bednar, January 13, 20156


This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Artistic Interpretations - Maria Wulf's Visual Poetry".  This challenge will be up and running Thursday (January 14) at noon.  Please come and join the fun.   Maria Wulf is a fiber artist and her blog is "Full Moon Fiber Arts"


I invite you to listen to me read this poem:  Yikes.  I usually have a photograph that goes with my poem, but the video is above that I drew inspiration from - so soundcloud used my photo instead... I made it the smallest size I could ;P

"Changing Seasons"

Changing Seasons

Chords strum,
memories uproot -
of hands held, hands empty,
laughter and tears

and when the first crocus unfurls
words melt into place,
vibrato'd, caressed
upon my golden guitar

and together
we turn toward the sun
and reach.

by Margaret Bednar, January 8, 2016

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Music with Marian - February- Dar Williams"

"Through the Trees"

Through the Trees

My gaze falls upon distant stars
of night's promise

Early morn, eyes seek light
through stoic trees

and come eve, follow sliver of gold that folds
over mountain's ridge .

May these rays alight and dwell
within, grasped ahold, and never let go.

by Margaret Bednar, January 5, 2016


My attempt to get back to poetry, to artistic expression - it is hard after such a long break.  Wanted to start with a nod to renewal, not necessarily a new year's list - but something a bit more practical.

Anyway, Happy New Year to each and every one.