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| My daughter riding our horse, Oberon bareback with a halter - what a good boy. |
Beneath Parisian green I'm protected,
stout arms arch over me, shading;
other times a safe haven to watch storm clouds
as they linger above windswept peaks.
I'm alone but not lonely; how could I be
with babbling brook whispering of past & present,
the flutter-byes of songbirds and crow,
the wink and nod of a silently sloping sun,
and of course the steady rhythm
of my pony's hooves intertwining it all.
I love the winding, dirt road. Imagine it
my yellow brick escorting me
to a better understanding of today, tomorrow.
Once we ventured beneath a purple midnight sky,
everything silhouetted against a moon
resembling a piece of eight;
my treasure a view of the stars
necklaced through branches and boughs,
inviting me to linger amidst velvety images,
transfixed, absorbed in an owl's ethereal cry.
by Margaret Bednar, June 20, 2019
HEAR a Barred Owl
This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Kerry Says - Human-Landscape Interactions". I hope I did this correctly - select a natural place with which we are familiar and write about it in a way to transform the descriptive into something more metaphoric or symbolic to the human condition. An outward and an inward reflection of experience. Think I could have been a bit more metaphoric - but this is what I came up with. sigh.
I invite you to listen to me read my poem:
11 comments:
Margaret, I knew you would choose a perfect landscape to write about, being so close to nature. I love this idyllic horse ride. How could one not feel perfectly content and at ease in such tranquil surroundings?
Beautiful description of peacefulness .... I expected a Southern accent!!
What a beautiful tranquil poem Margaret.
I really love this Margaret especially; "I'm alone but not lonely; how could I be
with babbling brook whispering of past & present." Sigh ...❤️
Beautiful peacefulness in this Margaret. Alone but not lonely....I often feel that way when I am in nature. And Oberon is such a good and beautiful boy.
This feels like a painting, Shamballa. Beautiful writing, a yearn to be in that place of peace, of nature, of spirit.
Tranquility, you and the pony and Mother Nature's goodies. I rode a horse to high school my first two years, three miles. Trees overhead a lot of the way. We had a thick stand of tall, young trees at our first home. A hurricane came directly overhead but the trees bowed and swayed, some touching the ground. A safe haven, we didn't even lose a shingle. Lots of window glass down on the Houston city streets though.
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Such peace and acceptance in this poem, Margaret. I love your last stanza.
I have often reveled in the feeling of "alone, but not lonely" too. It's simply wonderful.
What a good boy!
I love this description, Margaret:
"stars necklaced through branches and boughs"
This is beautiful. I love the photo of your daughter and Oberon. And your poem - especially the owl's ethereal cry.
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