Saturday, August 24, 2019

Adagio


Adagio

Heaven seemingly floats upon valley floor, early mornings,
a sleepy, buttercream sun rising slowly, yawning, stretching
its way over mountain along with me, it seems.
There's a melody playing if one listens closely; adagio bird song,
their pace awakens far more quickly than I; andante swoops into allegro,
as hawk soars, wings vivace upon the breeze.   My heart flutters
along with it, soon soothed by cows like little black piano keys
upon gently sloping hill, larghissimo, as mist evaporates and clears.

by Margaret Bednar, August 24, 2019

This is linked with "The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - The Sunday Challenge - Play it Again".  I chose "A Word with Laurie - one word: allegro and 8 lines and 1 minute!!!  But it took me two minutes to write this.  And then I did go back and changed a few words so add maybe another 30 seconds.  

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

Daydreaming

Jacek Yerka - website image used with "the Sunday Muse #69" 
Daydreaming

I wish I had a strawberry tree
surrounded with fields of (truly) golden wheat
from which I fashion choker and crown,
gracefully settle upon queenly chair,

linen-draped table adorned with china
awaits a feast; at my feet, a mighty lion
(kitty wants in on this wish too!)
and why not, a fountain for Grecian flair.

A bouquet of Juliet roses graces my table,
and cherries jubilee with crystal goblets 
offering trifles and cheesecakes, meringues,
mousse, parfaits...

dessert before the main, for this is my fancy,
my pleasure for which I think I'll forget to pinch
and awake, sink into it as I ignore storm clouds
of laundry, dishes, beds, and more...

by Margaret Bednar, August 21, 2019

This is for "The Sunday Muse #69"


Reflected


Reflected

Beneath lily pads, clouds cavort above sunfish, bluegill, and bass,
as mountain laurels and rhododendrons showcase green
upon water's smooth surface,

no resplendent flash of pinks or rosebay as high summer has passed,
chicks have grown, and swan seems to have lost his mate
as solitaire he soldiers on about the lake.

I can hear babbling brook, as summer without rain is unheard of,
feel sun's heated brand upon my back as it peaks between clouds
blanketing sky in a downy fashion,

and peer between tall grasses at water's edge, enjoying blues,
emeralds and golds reflected and rippling, circles drifting,
disappearing beneath lily pads and dancing clouds.

by Margaret Bednar, August 21, 2019

This is linked (LATE) with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Wordy Weekend Mini-Challenge - Messages in Water" AND "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Tuesday Platform".

And "The Sunday Muse/Wednesday Muse: The Beach".  We were given permission to use a lake scene as well, so it is not as oceany as the image offered in this prompt... 

Thursday, August 15, 2019

Cicadas

Cicadas

Covered in brown sugar and milk chocolate,
topped with a double dare, I don't care;
the answer's the same.

Remember hovering behind summer's screen door,
feeling protected, their high-pitched song
of chirps and clicks sent fear down my spine;

these nymphs emerged, zombie-like from the ground,
shed exoskeletons draped upon favorite trees,
horrified when I learned there were annual types

not just 17-year broods.  Some boil them
as one would a lobster, five minutes, immerse them
in ice water, picking off wings and legs
(or they'll get stuck in your teeth).

Perhaps I adore red-headed woodpeckers as they feast
upon these beady-eyed beasts, no need
for fancy toppings or provocation.

Crickets and katydids lulled me in and out of sleep,
still find their night songs quite comforting;
darkness perhaps a soothing blanket.

Thank you, but I'll pass on the box of chocolates,
even the tempting selection from the heart of France;
plain old Hersheys will do.

by Margaret Bednar, August 15, 2019

Cicadas are daytime insects - crickets and katydids sing at night.

This video even starts out like a horror film - my childhood fears vindicated!  I had chills racing up and down my spine ... seriously!


Chocolaterie OnLine - they melt in your mouth (so they say)

This is linked with "The Sunday Muse - Wednesday Muse - Cicadas!"  Now for those more adventurous souls, let me know if you order from Chocolaterie OnLine!

Doomed


Doomed

It's easier to believe the world is flat
then sacrifice a good life,
believe in the poetics of money,

never gamble heads or tails.
Join the Mephisto Club, one's soul
akin to saving a fish from drowning;

a toxin so strong that one's world
is war in a time of peace; at the mercy
of the dream breakers, never dream makers,

where malice and secrets are fair game
and the long road home is but a city of bones
and the Woman in Red, tempting as she may be,

is wild fire, where you become a servant of the bones,
keeper of broken prey, where the system rewards
with cheap diamonds and reefer madness

become a lost symbol of what could have been;
fallen, with the right hand of evil having you dead to rights,
and crossing boundaries is no longer an option.  

by Margaret Bednar, August 15, 2019

Mephisto - a devil in medieval mythology - Faust sold his soul in this legend.

This is linked to "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - La Catrina and the Wall of Books".  Use at least ten titles and the image in some way.  

This is my second poem written to this prompt ...

An odd poem for me, but it was fun!   26 book titles I used:  Saving Faith, The World is Flat, Sacrifice, Saving Fish from Drowning, Wari in a Time of Peace, Heads or Tails - The Poetics of Money, Toxin, The Mephisto Club, Dream Makers, Dream Breakers, Malice, Secrets, Fair Game, The Long Road Home, City of Bones, Woman in Red, Wild Fire, Servant of the Bones, Broken Prey, The System, Cheap Diamonds, Reefer Madness, Lost Symbol, Fallen, The Right Hand of Evil, Dead to Rights, Crossing Boundaries.  


La Catrina & Our Lady

 


La Catrina & Our Lady

Growing up, eyes of darkness and light
watched me every day as I arrived and departed,
blind faith residing in youthful heart.

Virgin in Blue next to Woman in Red:
lady bosses, one with sombrero and frills,
the other cloaked in stars (and rosary beads),

absolute friends, not mirror images of the other
as love and survival aren't the same.

Nicknamed one Truth, and Salsa the other;
each night in prayer, asked them to remember me
when it was my time,

as going home to glory was the testament
and heartbeat of Abuelita.  She'd say “Angels fall,
but 2nd chances were God's amazing grace",

And since I'd been baptized
and knelt before the confessional weekly,

original sin and true evil
weren’t clear and present dangers as Abuelita's hand
held mine each Sunday morning

and with fingertips from her lips to statues’ base
and holy water traced upon my forehead
(a near-perfect cross), we left for church;

certainly, no greater love and protection existed.

by Margaret Bednar, August 15, 2019

la abuela (grandmother) but one says "abuelita" when "dearest grandmother" is meant in a very personal way.  At least that is my understanding ... 

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Artistic Interpretations - La Catrina and the Wall of Books".  I researched La Catrina - a Mexica icon (her persona is described a bit in the linked challenge) - and was intrigued when I read she was a fixture in many Mexican homes.  I also know how important Our Lady of Guadalupe is to their religion and culture - so I pondered how the two could co-exist.   The other challenge was to use at least ten of the titles of the "wall of books" I photographed with the image of La Catrina painted on them.  If you click on the link you will see more images, but one is posted below (which was part of the inspirational challenge).

Book Titles Used:  Growing Up, Eyes of Darkness, Faith, Woman in Red, Original Sin, True Evil, Clear and Present Danger, The Confession, My Life, Lady Boss, Absolute Friends, Mirror Image, Love and Survival, Truth and Salsa, Remember Me, The Testament, Heartbeat, Angels Fall, 2nd Chance, Amazing Grace, No Greater Love, Near Perfect.




Monday, August 12, 2019

Escape

123rf
Escape

Can you hear the Caribbean,
feel the Queen that once resided inside
as she floated in shallow waters
amongst seagrass and reef?

With fingers, caress the whorls
and spire, admire her whole,
not chipped away for jewelry.
Listen to her siren call,

close your eyes; escape,
your heartbeat joined with hers.

by Margaret Bednar, August 12, 2019

This is linked with "The Sunday Muse #68" - the photograph used for inspiration can be found if you click on the link. 

Saturday, August 10, 2019

Noon


Sunrise side 
Noon

Shadows are cast,
olive gives way to chartreuse,
blue fades to gray,
and storm clouds flirt with the sun
as a patina of platinum
glosses sky and mountain rim,

where I sit, midday, writing this poem,
inspired neither by sunrise nor sunset,
but a moment folded in between,
festooned either side
with wildflowers, grasses, and pines

halved by a winding road
ribboning its way along ridgeway’s spine;
raindrops unhindered by the divide.

by Margaret Bednar, August 10, 2019

Linked with “Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Just One Word - Halved”


Sunset side

Thursday, August 8, 2019

Full Pardon

My son racing up and over the sand dune to Broadkill Beach, DE
(I was right behind him... the sand felt SO lovely...)
Full Pardon

Cumulus clouds are a siren calling "Surrender"
to the strand of sand shining beneath midday sun,

soon the heat beneath my feet, quickly filling in,
erasing all evidence of slipping away.

Blame it on a cotton-blue sky and swaying grass either side;
curling sea-hook grasps my waist, pulls me forward,

hair whips about, blouse fills up as if a mainsail,
arms outstretched, one windward, one leeward,

as I tack left, turn through courting wind.  The path leads me
over arched sand dune; first glimpse of endless beach

and a horizon smudged; multiple brush strokes
of variegated blues and greens upon a canvas.

Blame it on the seagulls, their soaring akin
to blue-grass ballads rife with riffs, grace notes, improvisation;

not so much their squawking, wailing songs
alerting the flock to a possible food source.

Yet I rejoice in their audacity, their surrender to summer.
Blame this escapade on my own rogue self;

for the day won't wait, can't be replaced.  The time is now
and I grasp it with all I've got.  Unapologetic.

by Margaret Bednar, August 8, 2019

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Music with Marian - Juice".  The prompt really screamed for a "sassy" poem, but I used the phrase "Blame it on the..." minus the sass.  I have just returned from a week-long trip to NYC and I am SO glad I had a bit of my ocean for two days - it is a little longer for me to take the coastal route, but so worth it.

I believe Grammar Heads will squirm as "unapologetic" should be "unapologetically" (I think that is the case, but I'm no grammar head)  I just like the way it sounds with no "ly" added so I used my creative license :)

I invite you to listen to me read my poem: