tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30745095034768246212024-03-05T16:49:34.670-05:00Of Verse, Poesy & Odes My Poetic Journey - (poems in progress - subject to change)Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.comBlogger1486125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-78987975940302130372023-11-03T15:31:00.005-04:002023-11-03T17:19:37.975-04:00Possession<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_v2Sy-HW37HleDNnj6a29xZKx5F4Mzo8RTmKCQRDQ93BYIw-uWoespG2xhWPCO-YswXeVSo3o4l0tokyYX_OSMCVogDH-CD8CjZrI-lchSuenPAqkHtrzKYHamD8sBW8Va33YFxlWAmL0Icb-Lgq-b81pwIze6EJK4NAgioydiTvTuW9ZwTV6ix9JL0/s3567/IMG_7057.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2658" data-original-width="3567" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_v2Sy-HW37HleDNnj6a29xZKx5F4Mzo8RTmKCQRDQ93BYIw-uWoespG2xhWPCO-YswXeVSo3o4l0tokyYX_OSMCVogDH-CD8CjZrI-lchSuenPAqkHtrzKYHamD8sBW8Va33YFxlWAmL0Icb-Lgq-b81pwIze6EJK4NAgioydiTvTuW9ZwTV6ix9JL0/s320/IMG_7057.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-size: x-large;">Possession</span><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lifeblood coveted / measurements eyed</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">pigeon proud chest</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">fowl or fashion</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">prey or debutant</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">hunted prize, trophy wife</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">by Margaret Bednar, Noember 3, 2023</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Today's five-line observation. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am making a collage with a 1909 New York Fashions magazine and I also have a ton of bird books. The dresses were ... unbelievable - impossible chests, waists, and "bubble" butts... The big collage I'm working on is NOT the image above (this is a page of my five-line observation poetry "repurposed" book which I am having fun collaging as well.)</div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-62283893245950268332023-11-02T11:18:00.006-04:002023-11-02T13:06:23.776-04:00Weeds Upon the Green <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ftV58H9cPG0YtF9vFmvmcZVryX7vT57pVnexSqR6OfE9a8zNA6IGQgOh3ZRlrTlro6s57KshIyQnB06-MI-1REigdwr2KjxXia828hrrboPVwgpSUIkETpQDOGiLvrDLlCqflyVqiDwJzj7B2xRHizdXmfAUUMytwEPHCdz2xJsPRh7agrn_MI554TQ/s4032/IMG_5884.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ftV58H9cPG0YtF9vFmvmcZVryX7vT57pVnexSqR6OfE9a8zNA6IGQgOh3ZRlrTlro6s57KshIyQnB06-MI-1REigdwr2KjxXia828hrrboPVwgpSUIkETpQDOGiLvrDLlCqflyVqiDwJzj7B2xRHizdXmfAUUMytwEPHCdz2xJsPRh7agrn_MI554TQ/s320/IMG_5884.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">Weeds upon the Green</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span><span>Once immaculate<br /></span><span>Now called back<br /></span><span>unwanted blooms <br /></span><span>frolicking </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>amongst </span><span>18 reclaimed holes. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="color: #93c47d; font-size: medium;"><i>By Margaret Bednar, November 1, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Offield Nature Preserve is an old golf course turned land conservancy; a favorite place to walk with a gorgeous view of Little Traverse Bay (Lake Michigan). </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Today's five-line observation.</span></div><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-68868466107306636852023-10-22T01:34:00.006-04:002023-10-22T02:01:07.671-04:00Home<div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BMWPfLW8eFsMi756EJLTlPZrc-r83ZJMBBwAygvrGhRR-mYHln2yRjYYC9JL2y7jY4Lh9xWKAlKDpXU9u_lgQdN_NP1y4JL2dyooE1v2bpDnRpU4InCR2wHLN0lnR-ec38d8BhNCRtH-EvljlqSmAWeAXBmr92PyDQbfCW1p1Kk4g56bflNpGVpEu9E/s3598/IMG_6445.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3598" data-original-width="2860" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BMWPfLW8eFsMi756EJLTlPZrc-r83ZJMBBwAygvrGhRR-mYHln2yRjYYC9JL2y7jY4Lh9xWKAlKDpXU9u_lgQdN_NP1y4JL2dyooE1v2bpDnRpU4InCR2wHLN0lnR-ec38d8BhNCRtH-EvljlqSmAWeAXBmr92PyDQbfCW1p1Kk4g56bflNpGVpEu9E/s320/IMG_6445.jpeg" width="254" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Collage by Margaret Bednar</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;">Home</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why does time</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">play tricks?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sister's hand held in mine;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">seems like yesterday</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">dandelion wishes</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">sailing summer's breeze,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">silly giggles.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our mother's grown small;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">time blinked </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and my hands look like hers.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Firstborn held close,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">seagulls and songbirds,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">beachside and blue mountains,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">sixth one mostly grown.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My knight's hair is grey,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">yet I still see him</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">with the world's wonder</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">before him.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Swear I'm still</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a barefoot girl</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">living horseback days</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">exploring fields, quarries,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and country lanes;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">still a young mother,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">babies and toddlers,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">parks and zoos,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">elephants and penguins,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">bedtime stories,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">cream puff cheeks.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A whispered prayer,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">my Mother's voice,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">no longer a phone call away.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How does all this</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">exist at once?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Click my heels,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">find home</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">is not a place</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">but a feeling inside.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, October 22, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is for "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/10/friday-writings-99-why.html" target="_blank">Poets and Story Tellers United - Friday Writings #99 Why</a>". Trying to explore the complexity of memories and how time flies and how... time is slow and fast and the feelings that are jumbled inside me - seemingly sliding back and forth on the time scale, so to speak. I wrote this poem in a hurry - it doesn't quite flow the way I want it to - I did want it hopscotching about on the time line - but I will have to let this rest and revisit it again - winter is almost here and I need to get outside and enjoy the days we have left of Fall!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-34610591307123130712023-10-14T15:16:00.009-04:002023-10-14T20:36:27.092-04:00Gratitude <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG293k9xtMqM72yQYPU-s8p5nTnRXSIVLNxHPr2HnXtsbhDtkrRQemwiiAm0dwflZWH19tURFIoz5XVMAgmKPXm_jaqOIk4BW0PRKSIP6NOgmzzyzb8pb7QrZOOD9fpOdQInrjrogpFrciyTBA_pOq3QEvelCgyyNq-rYikIUJOX8MxN6dhxHS5j9EDR0/s1165/IMG_6206.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1165" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG293k9xtMqM72yQYPU-s8p5nTnRXSIVLNxHPr2HnXtsbhDtkrRQemwiiAm0dwflZWH19tURFIoz5XVMAgmKPXm_jaqOIk4BW0PRKSIP6NOgmzzyzb8pb7QrZOOD9fpOdQInrjrogpFrciyTBA_pOq3QEvelCgyyNq-rYikIUJOX8MxN6dhxHS5j9EDR0/s320/IMG_6206.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><span face=""Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif" style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">Gratitude</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br />The geese have long since<div>v'd their way south,</div><div>bare feet have been replaced with boots,</div><div>yet I still</div><div><br /></div><div>sink footprints into chilled sand,</div><div>tide fills them up,</div><div>makes them disappear;</div><div>a wonder of which I never tire.</div><div><br /></div><div>My heart pounds </div><div>yet isn't always heard</div><div>above splash of wave and wind,</div><div>an exhilaration that is commonplace,</div><div>at least for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I pity the ones who never know</div><div>the wonder of a flock of seagulls</div><div>lifting in unison, filling horizon with swoops</div><div>and angled wings, riding Great Lake's breeze</div><div><br /></div><div>beneath clouds that tell me</div><div>it's time to settle inside, before a warm fire,</div><div>before snow descends,</div><div>book in hand, cat on lap,</div><div><br /></div><div>all the while thanking God</div><div>this is my ordinary.</div><div><br /></div><div><span face=""Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif" style="color: #e69138; font-size: 15.84px;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, November 28, 2018</i></span></div><div><span face=""Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif" style="color: #e69138; font-size: 15.84px;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span face=""Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: 15.84px;">This is linked with "<a href="https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2023/10/gratitude.html" target="_blank">What's Going on? Gratitude</a>". </span></div><div><span style="color: #e69138;"><i><br style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-size: 15.84px;" /></i></span>Originally written for dVerse Poetics - Magic of Ordinary Things". I also linked with dVerse Open Link Night #234". A few small changes have been made. </div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-24289489695353543262023-10-13T09:46:00.017-04:002023-10-13T19:00:49.301-04:00Mountain Top<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsnKtMlzNXDcbx8yOk8MxdFyWB8X6IzsQM09gG5pWzigPJXcbJmIBDK_fa9f-H5yrHxH0wstKTrXNtL_PuwyrfKdevqdza-OgpZGmGwShsmMqx9XN1zHzgtVHBC_WYmW82XSA57JTdqo/s848/62666834_s.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="848" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsnKtMlzNXDcbx8yOk8MxdFyWB8X6IzsQM09gG5pWzigPJXcbJmIBDK_fa9f-H5yrHxH0wstKTrXNtL_PuwyrfKdevqdza-OgpZGmGwShsmMqx9XN1zHzgtVHBC_WYmW82XSA57JTdqo/s320/62666834_s.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">Mountain Top</span></p><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Bourbon butterscotch </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>brightened to a shiny penny</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>before the hold of a sky,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>matched your blue eyes</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>and m</span></span><span>ixed with cucumber waters,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">rushed past woodland lichen </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">and pussy willow,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">life-giving sustenance </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>caressing </span><span>ancient paths </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">and chaste mauve lips</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>both thirsting </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>for</span><span> past and present </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>to be </span></span><span>vineyard and vine; </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>for all, </span><span>for one. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">A mountain is mighty</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">but beneath a tree branch, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">a flannel grey sanctuary</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">embraced our youth,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">the glacial stream curled by</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">as fauna and curling willow</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>turned your eyes </span><span>to candied lavender</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">and mine to Celtic green</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">as we picnicked and drank </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>from mountain waters, </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>settled ourselves, </span></span><span>became lovers.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">***</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">A tawny owl blinks</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">into a raven-wing night</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">blessing each season</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">as we return</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">beneath a peppercorn sky</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">ablaze with the northern star;</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">refined amber </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">above windswept cliffs</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">whistling a serenade to love.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">This ancient pathway </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">our spring nectar,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">where summer coneflowers </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">and yarrow bloom,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">fall's fiery hue </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">yielding soon </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">to winter's alabaster drape.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><i><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: medium;">by Margaret Bednar, December 7, 2020 (Reposted October 3, 2023)</span></i></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Reposted and playing along with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/10/earth-air-fire-water.html" target="_blank">Poets & Storytellers United - Friday Writings Earth, Air, Fire, Water"</a>. I did change this version slightly from the original.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">___</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">(Dec. 7, 2020) I wrote this poem to an expired challenge over at "<a href="https://dversepoets.com/2020/12/03/mtb-synesthesia/" target="_blank">dVerse Poets Pub - Synesthesia</a>" - write a song full of colors. I wouldn't say this is a song, but it is a poem. I am linking this up with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/12/writers-pantry-49-get-your-binge-on.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers Writers Pantry #49</a>". </span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-63630434006324387712023-10-07T15:14:00.010-04:002023-10-07T16:44:33.187-04:00Dia de los Muertos<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFr_rIJ8rRGAc7rG0QkpgE5MkwCwYnI45lzkReZKdpABB1TQIzTiNg4_KvZkw1q7MFC1e5du2_rDOSwFV9c5G9_2C93wP8iV5PM70NFilmB6hfXWdxwCBOR8E_Hwk3T6JYrF1o99htTQmcZNQfgzgBpZbNoF4wh2qFtTZ8Ft7Ps4MAKL-xqMZeZfnBaP0/s3782/IMG_5969.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2616" data-original-width="3782" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFr_rIJ8rRGAc7rG0QkpgE5MkwCwYnI45lzkReZKdpABB1TQIzTiNg4_KvZkw1q7MFC1e5du2_rDOSwFV9c5G9_2C93wP8iV5PM70NFilmB6hfXWdxwCBOR8E_Hwk3T6JYrF1o99htTQmcZNQfgzgBpZbNoF4wh2qFtTZ8Ft7Ps4MAKL-xqMZeZfnBaP0/w381-h263/IMG_5969.jpeg" width="381" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Collage by Margaret Bednar (click image to enlarge)</div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400; font-size: large;">Dia de los Muertos</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">(Day of the Dead)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Marigold flowers and crucifixes,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Catholic Saints and skulls,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">La Catrina and Madonna side by side.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A photograph, youthful,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">BBQ salmon, hasselback potatoes,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">garlic, butter, crispy and tender;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">comforts all, vaguely familiar.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A hand I don't recognize</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">reaches toward my soul,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">yearns for Monarch's fluttering touch;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">reminiscent</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of a faintly remembered heartbeat.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yet soars away...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I feel welcomed and lost,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">eternity and mortality</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">intertwined.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400; font-size: medium;">by Margaret Bednar, October 7, 2023</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is linked with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/10/friday-writings-97-october.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #97 - October</a>".</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Spanish explorers conquered the Aztecs and in doing so, cultures collided. Celebrating ancestors and the Catholic All Soul's Day created this amazing cultural "holiday", Day of the Dead - a "family reunion" of sorts (November 1 & 2) where dead ancestors are the guests of honor. So, this isn't technically October, but I feel the altar and such are probably set up and food is being planned for it. The Monarch butterfly is believed to carry the soul of the deceased. </span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-10636042038301268812023-10-01T23:27:00.013-04:002023-10-03T18:48:07.767-04:00Finding Home<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgoI5ucj4LNzcOAox9bbGXxkMa1guwChnQg6LvUZ0Ytw1qHbwfzTCt3Uh1wsHUraRs_pCsDiv-M1gZaznSATxaR_0PTCnEeRCsW4b-2-P3DxP_gvXc0vj0yZXninpxfeBPa2idaoMSMeoYn6-L4vfN-2pmAvwp5xkAGWMnwQRa7w_uGN1h4gwqeSV60w/s3557/IMG_5701.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2563" data-original-width="3557" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgoI5ucj4LNzcOAox9bbGXxkMa1guwChnQg6LvUZ0Ytw1qHbwfzTCt3Uh1wsHUraRs_pCsDiv-M1gZaznSATxaR_0PTCnEeRCsW4b-2-P3DxP_gvXc0vj0yZXninpxfeBPa2idaoMSMeoYn6-L4vfN-2pmAvwp5xkAGWMnwQRa7w_uGN1h4gwqeSV60w/w396-h286/IMG_5701.jpeg" width="396" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> collage by Margaret Bednar</div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Finding Home</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mother adored her books of Somerset, England, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">vintage portrait album close at hand; </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'd search their features for hints of mine,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lyfords, Hutchins, Beckingtons;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">serious gazes and stories </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I now tuck away.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In my heart resides </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">the red and pink roses </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">that graced the side of our house,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">quilts and kittens, faithful dogs</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">that never left mother's side.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And books. Her love of books.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Reading to me, Black Beauty, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">perhaps second only to</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>A </span><span>Child's Garden of Verses; </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">sometimes close my eyes at night,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">hear her rythmic voice. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Home. I'm glad it's easy </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">to find my way home. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: medium;">by Margaret Bednar, October 1, 2023</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is written to the challenge from: "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/09/friday-writings-96-what-for-you.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United Friday Writings #96 - What for you conjures up home?</a>"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-39781428045561292372023-09-23T11:10:00.011-04:002023-09-23T11:54:15.098-04:00Sojourn<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tOWdFYLlDWQzTDGq1fWs7PsBqC7AXR80Q-XEB4y8OLl47VLKLnzsP_aAUrxcPQ3P_jh0RPVoJTryuJvIC_8KFXmV3-CdiEhDOKayML6fDtrlLxGrtvcI4VoPwn7VW6IGCC1_SV1NIXynagtizdubDf6GvSVnGGE8m1wVeZhDHypzaqC3oamacHbE6h4/s3779/IMG_5580.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2732" data-original-width="3779" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tOWdFYLlDWQzTDGq1fWs7PsBqC7AXR80Q-XEB4y8OLl47VLKLnzsP_aAUrxcPQ3P_jh0RPVoJTryuJvIC_8KFXmV3-CdiEhDOKayML6fDtrlLxGrtvcI4VoPwn7VW6IGCC1_SV1NIXynagtizdubDf6GvSVnGGE8m1wVeZhDHypzaqC3oamacHbE6h4/s320/IMG_5580.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">collage by Margaret Bednar</div><br /> <span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: x-large;">Sojourn</span><div><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My thoughts</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">ride the currents</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">along the Atlantic,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a migratory pattern</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">not unlike the Monarch.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps more an escape </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">than a disciplined,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">pre-planned route,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">timeline to adhere.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Instead, I wander;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">parameters of time</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">disregarded.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Find myself in decades past,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">lamenting decisions</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I can not change;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">careening forward,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">wishful of a metamorphosis.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why the Atlantic?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm not sure</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">other than it's a place</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I love to dip my toes,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">watch the sunrise,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">collect seashells,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">lose myself on the horizon,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">feel His presence,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">witness the journey</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of the butterfly;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a fellow sojourner,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">seeking, searching,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">losing track of time...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">contemplating eternity.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Like the Monarch,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">make a pilgramage yearly,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a temporary repreive </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">from the day to day,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">otherwise, like a prayer</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">or the tingle of fingertips,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">this daily sojourn, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">this centering,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">this sustenance.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, September 23, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is linked with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/09/friday-writings-95-losing-track-of-time.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #25 - Losing Track of Time</a>". </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I gave myself 10 minutes to write - close my eyes, feel the response, go with the flow, so to speak, edit very little and just post it. Quite the opposite of how I usually write. I did have my collage to inspire the direction of my thought - that is usual for me (some sort of image of mine - photo, drawing, collage).</span></div></div></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-55518778738556385382023-09-21T22:27:00.005-04:002023-09-21T22:35:28.541-04:00Taken<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuO48bq3gV7JrrR4cc2oVY82rN7jzplhdLCTlnonCA5NeSK43dtfZHJzAE4jD5mhjMhorFlB-MJ_2_pF0CnGWbFMBd79cHZd86zvZQSpfOQLEprWiXNEOxtoAj-OHAiGAPl8tZXeQoP1jUT1Bndv3r2rjDVfXw2KVR-hOCESvc6IG95-9Bfensqbkbxc/s3306/IMG_5568.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2361" data-original-width="3306" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuO48bq3gV7JrrR4cc2oVY82rN7jzplhdLCTlnonCA5NeSK43dtfZHJzAE4jD5mhjMhorFlB-MJ_2_pF0CnGWbFMBd79cHZd86zvZQSpfOQLEprWiXNEOxtoAj-OHAiGAPl8tZXeQoP1jUT1Bndv3r2rjDVfXw2KVR-hOCESvc6IG95-9Bfensqbkbxc/s320/IMG_5568.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">collage by Margaret Bednar</div><p></p><p><span style="color: #ffa400; font-size: large;">Taken</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As the sun slid</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">behind lucent clouds</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">she descended </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">from Heaven</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Flocks unfazed</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">shepherd boy asleep</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Taken from me</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">on a similar</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Autumn day</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Have you saved</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a place for me?"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">but her smile</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">seemed taken too</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Did she remember</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">walks in the field</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">planting wildflower seeds</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">faces dirt-smudged</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">beneath wide-brimmed hats?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Far afield she gazed</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">before turning</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"You've time</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">to grow</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">into robe and crown</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stay curious</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You've time to breathe."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My eyes lowered</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">held the tears close;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">...found her gone</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Raised my hand</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">loosed yesterday's flowers</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">to plant themselves</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Offered my spirit</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No longer afraid</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Understood the comfort</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of ending up Home.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"You took my Mama.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One day you'll take me.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But first, I must live."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, September 21, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is linked with the fabulous "<a href="https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2023/07/take-this-poem.html" target="_blank">What's Going On? Take this Poem</a>" </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is also part of my Emily Dickinson reflections series. I read and reflected on her "IV Time and Eternity II" . Her poem can be found "<a href="https://etc.usf.edu/lit2go/115/the-poems-of-emily-dickinson-series-two/4505/time-and-eternity-poem-2/" target="_blank">HERE</a>".</span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-24299416234068022522023-09-16T21:37:00.020-04:002023-09-17T21:03:26.509-04:00The Bluebird<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlAF52XvsUv95YjSTZYt50Bi3Ez8udfcZ66-a-hAr3ID7Dwjo7XmoAaAC-DBPCOaOne32u5_9aenKKv8ETogJWXukQpSWUa7G10mppY1HhZKkQ7CHuoH5ak-ZmbRPeuSkpz6l4P2mfsW9RFky6IEq2V_IYireIEp_5IVZbb7M77Pibg8yEzeiHlWv9tSc" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="564" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlAF52XvsUv95YjSTZYt50Bi3Ez8udfcZ66-a-hAr3ID7Dwjo7XmoAaAC-DBPCOaOne32u5_9aenKKv8ETogJWXukQpSWUa7G10mppY1HhZKkQ7CHuoH5ak-ZmbRPeuSkpz6l4P2mfsW9RFky6IEq2V_IYireIEp_5IVZbb7M77Pibg8yEzeiHlWv9tSc" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Image courtesy of Susie Clevenger </div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;">The Bluebird</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">God gifted Bluebird</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>a cloak of royal indigo</span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>and a vest of orange zest</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">habiliments worn </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>perched </span><span>upon matronly limbs</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>while performing lo</span><span>fty </span><span>melodies </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">proclaiming summer love</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">often silhouetted</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">against field and sky</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>singing </span><span>for none other </span></span><span>than himself.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But one day found himself</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>within a cage; </span><span>a wild captivity,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>requests for joy, ignored.</span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>Ballads </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span>dried upon his tongue</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>vestments became frayed and worn...</span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>a coveted prize no more.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Finally released, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">freedom upon blue feathers</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">he flew far and wide</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and sang so sweetly</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>of renewal, his gift </span><span>to God,</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">angelic song.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, September 16, 2023</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>This is linked with (THE LAST) "<a href="http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2023/05/sunday-muse-261.html#comment-form" target="_blank">The Sunday Muse #261"</a>. Obviously, a long run and I thank Carrie Van Horn for hosting for so long! </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>This is also part of my Emily Dickinson reflections series. I read "The Bluebird" of which I borrowed her title. Her "The Bluebird" poem is <a href="https://www.online-literature.com/dickinson/poems-series-2/83/" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>Some sounds (and sights) of bluebirds <a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=565998106&rlz=1C5MACD_enUS1075US1075&sxsrf=AM9HkKlbGJOR5wdcDeUKSLcxx2jvvrG9_g:1694915775430&q=bluebird+song+sounds&tbm=vid&source=lnms&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiEx9-lxbCBAxU3kYkEHWUwBGwQ0pQJegQIDBAB&biw=1030&bih=633&dpr=2#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:0a9da07f,vid:ancr5DObEGY,st:0" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div><p></p>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-7293358773269186332023-09-16T16:55:00.013-04:002023-09-16T21:50:29.107-04:00Summer Shower<div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUbDTgi6X14YNSOc4qNzQbSINwiG88JTe82bExAWAkmjPpp0doNVomA1MAIOfyBEpWW2-1gspXQf2sErm6r5a0VhBKYDFooRhRraRY6mZE7az1tJ66M521lpD9psRdET25WIsrJ85r7TBs2SFMuLiBnyVunipLYezr9kjt2IR5rnOpr7ArS-tApabcPQQ/s1692/IMG_5457.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1692" data-original-width="1284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUbDTgi6X14YNSOc4qNzQbSINwiG88JTe82bExAWAkmjPpp0doNVomA1MAIOfyBEpWW2-1gspXQf2sErm6r5a0VhBKYDFooRhRraRY6mZE7az1tJ66M521lpD9psRdET25WIsrJ85r7TBs2SFMuLiBnyVunipLYezr9kjt2IR5rnOpr7ArS-tApabcPQQ/s320/IMG_5457.jpeg" width="243" /></a></div><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">Summer Shower</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stillness,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">just before a storm,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">tickles, teases,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">gently lifts a curl,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">whispers</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">as crows abandon shaded sky</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and tasseled corn stalks</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">slightly bend.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I've been writing</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">beneath White Oak's sanctuary,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">personal lines of poetry,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of loss, of love, of longing,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">when drops of rain</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">stain my scrawling ink,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">slide down parchment page</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">in sympathy.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A simple summer shower</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">kisses field and fauna,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">its gentle harmony</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">soothes floral faces raised</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">before a final bow.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Drips and drops</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">fall from leaves and eaves</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">as Sunshine dons his sweetest smile.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stillness, the only sound.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, September 16, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is in response to "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/09/friday-writings-94-storm-ink-love.html?sc=1694898031229#c8415281356259530857" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #94 - Storm, Ink, Love"</a>. Use these three words in a poem. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am also starting a series of poems I will work on randomly. This sereis will be my response to Emily Dickinson's poems. This one here is offered upon reflection of reading "XI - Summer Shower" - of which I have borrowed her title. Her "Summer Shower" poem is <a href="https://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=3425" target="_blank">HERE</a>. </span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-76583183352074487362023-09-13T23:23:00.007-04:002023-09-14T13:33:55.649-04:00Appreciation<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhNbB_BtppF6gGdFgz7sP06aK2LNhmMrklGLAvVQ5p3uKJssG2jJObSc1uhMUwzGhzD1bEbRMDBP0eJKY6kusI61xPQSdy26XvCFd_vlfcxwVKmhAKPU0-whR0kYvIHtszzwQ3jJ-N3jZ8sQQ3NH1RyCRHPkN3qmWzemc-IJg7dIuxnPmJCa38lnidXb0/s3867/IMG_4994.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2900" data-original-width="3867" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhNbB_BtppF6gGdFgz7sP06aK2LNhmMrklGLAvVQ5p3uKJssG2jJObSc1uhMUwzGhzD1bEbRMDBP0eJKY6kusI61xPQSdy26XvCFd_vlfcxwVKmhAKPU0-whR0kYvIHtszzwQ3jJ-N3jZ8sQQ3NH1RyCRHPkN3qmWzemc-IJg7dIuxnPmJCa38lnidXb0/s320/IMG_4994.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Appreciation</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The dog days of summer,</div><div style="text-align: left;">of BBQ, beach and bike rides,</div><div style="text-align: left;">soft serve ice cream</div><div style="text-align: left;">beneath mid-days unforgiving sun</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">are sadly over -</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And Indian summer,</div><div style="text-align: left;">a few final days</div><div style="text-align: left;">of frivolity and farewell</div><div style="text-align: left;">before they too flicker and fade,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">is promised -</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And yet, perhaps I'm fickle.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sweaters, neatly folded for months,</div><div style="text-align: left;">long to be matched </div><div style="text-align: left;">with mittens, scarves, boots,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">comfortable friends -</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My horse, fluffy as a bear,</div><div style="text-align: left;">will make a path</div><div style="text-align: left;">through pristine snow,</div><div style="text-align: left;">he, dreaming of oats,</div><div style="text-align: left;">me, hot chocolate upon trail's end,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">satisfaction -</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Soon followed for an eager glimpse </div><div style="text-align: left;">of Snowdrops, Snapdragons, and Crocus,</div><div style="text-align: left;">several red breasts,</div><div style="text-align: left;">and a steady stream of sunlight,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">renewal -</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Saying "Goodbye" and "Hello"<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">to old friends, new friends,</div><div style="text-align: left;">tucking away, dusting off,</div><div style="text-align: left;">a merry-go-round,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">a warm embrace.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">by Margaret Bednar, September 13, 2023</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">May 18 was the last time I wrote a poem! It's been too long and I can't wait to read everyone's poems and catch up with "old" friends. This is linked with "<a href="https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2023/09/hows-weather.html#comment-form" target="_blank">What's Going On? - How's the Weather?</a>" This ended up being more about the seasons, how did that happen. I guess my creative juices took a side path but I hope it still fits in a bit with the chalenge. I need to fine tune my skills! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Did you know the robin was named "red breast" before the color "orange" was named. </div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-80446420968525699042023-05-18T13:59:00.012-04:002023-05-19T11:14:52.223-04:00Finding Comfort<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65dJnnTsVjQykMMxuBdQ7vzbCjYWNJe9ZTwo42z7hqMUT9EXnB_oBkqIWt3gZkJFFrwpCFaJ7y4Tt_n0fRCWOjDKZubOVJjvWOHD0k2Xw7SO-WHRZVzKtOpaRPQfNdUqxj0ayOl3cr3DYgyUiAK9DdGqKF59anFtHFlmLZT2f5ACzVCFemXP7NNc4/s1170/IMG_8273.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="1170" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65dJnnTsVjQykMMxuBdQ7vzbCjYWNJe9ZTwo42z7hqMUT9EXnB_oBkqIWt3gZkJFFrwpCFaJ7y4Tt_n0fRCWOjDKZubOVJjvWOHD0k2Xw7SO-WHRZVzKtOpaRPQfNdUqxj0ayOl3cr3DYgyUiAK9DdGqKF59anFtHFlmLZT2f5ACzVCFemXP7NNc4/s320/IMG_8273.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></div><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">Finding Comfort</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Iron bunnies arc over wildflowers scattered randomly a few months back by Mother's hand full of seeds, letting her chickens decide what was picked and pecked, what survived, thrived. Flowering bushes and potted plants nestle amongst garden ornaments she loved: a windmill, water-spouting frogs, a birdbath, rocks from her travels out West, as well as winding rows full of vegetables. She liked to weed and mulch, but didn't over-trim or shape her garden; she liked the natural look, a place where chipmunk holes were welcome, where birds and butterflies found safe haven. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>From a collection of hats, I select a blue-brimmed floppy from a peg, numerous garden implements neatly lined in a row below, idyl. I slip my hands into a pair of her gloves, put one to my cheek, comforted. I g</span><span>ather a few mementos, look forward to dirty fingernails, tired knees, and a sun-flushed farmer's-tan, Mother's iron bunnies cavorting above me.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">This is linked with "<a href="https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2023/05/17/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-38/" target="_blank">Girlie on the Edge - Six Sentence Stories</a>" - "Flush" is the word of the week. I suppose this is more of a reflection than a story - I'm used to writing poetry so this is kind of a mash-up of a story and a poem, maybe. But I'll post it and try and write a true story next time.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5TjVBEA6HHwpqXEkalHCyjH3fGv1SLsUrDJ6Zr8ZgPqQdWN76cfjiHEOYNeJWCR1PEdjppAZWZjGJNLiwYfHRh6Iu-ZSuyrjC_5ieZ2EZJyqukuWTWJoaIDeJN6vyED4YNnZx2HChShneT8HvLQdHGtGZU2w8V6SY-pNUD8VPUBUevT7TsekWLmi/s1605/IMG_8274.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1605" data-original-width="1284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5TjVBEA6HHwpqXEkalHCyjH3fGv1SLsUrDJ6Zr8ZgPqQdWN76cfjiHEOYNeJWCR1PEdjppAZWZjGJNLiwYfHRh6Iu-ZSuyrjC_5ieZ2EZJyqukuWTWJoaIDeJN6vyED4YNnZx2HChShneT8HvLQdHGtGZU2w8V6SY-pNUD8VPUBUevT7TsekWLmi/s320/IMG_8274.jpeg" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Artwork by Margaret Bednar</div></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-24952582823711165922023-05-13T00:04:00.006-04:002023-05-13T00:18:33.454-04:00Spring's Promise<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGnQI4AIErA4Km7TfdwFZgNZp5Tbr9a7TViueKAjMl_3fa5eq8981rKZZj5MuBwUO227375ZCXiiBL_ktxliQUXzn-nOPeE6rWk7a7tnvGd9Rl5ZjFYvPQLwXRzkGGBqg10ar2r7BqNq3u3xrxQGQpFs-TAsLs70XotKo2hrNgSSXjEfNy3zQpiHW/s1074/87303960-6066-4818-BDAD-7D962E672BC2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="1074" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGnQI4AIErA4Km7TfdwFZgNZp5Tbr9a7TViueKAjMl_3fa5eq8981rKZZj5MuBwUO227375ZCXiiBL_ktxliQUXzn-nOPeE6rWk7a7tnvGd9Rl5ZjFYvPQLwXRzkGGBqg10ar2r7BqNq3u3xrxQGQpFs-TAsLs70XotKo2hrNgSSXjEfNy3zQpiHW/s320/87303960-6066-4818-BDAD-7D962E672BC2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">Spring's Promise</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stillness -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not even a dragonfly</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">skims pond's surface,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Monet's paintbrush poised;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">birth and resurrection's impressions</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">thirst for season's kiss.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> I thought to hang my hopes</span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"> upon a crescent hook last night,</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> but moon and stars</span><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> fell before my feet,</span><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> scattered, buoyant</span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> upon Claude's violet-blue depths.</span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"> Reached instead</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> within myself</span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"> since made of stars are we.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> Fingertips tingled,</span><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> started to mold</span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"> and fashion dreams;</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"> mind raced upon cool breeze.</span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">Funny how daylight's </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">drowsy ardor</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">differs from night's</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">invigorating arousal.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">Sit dockside,</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">stir concentric circles</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">slowly with my toe,</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">stillness and urgency suspended.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One little lotus bud</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">sprouts,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">its minty elfin cap,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a promise.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #93c47d; font-size: medium;"><i>By Margaret Bednar, May 12, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is linked with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/05/friday-writings-76-to-do-lists.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #76</a>"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lily pads represent birth, resurrection, purity, majesty, enlightenment</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-411208676499035082023-05-06T00:09:00.004-04:002023-05-06T00:16:00.834-04:00With Emily<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HT_QQgBItV6bH1nM4fdazbVF0A4gNL1I_Q8DpdgStvmD83qzYUvZJipzDFQdD4JpoMV0bKaS1rdsDSa8bNPO3s9AM-86TG25DEbLALKgqvL6ZImR-KebyF5j_6I282V6l8kz4204b2r95flXf2KMD8kKg2Qb7doCfPMaVFDkIF0jWy_d8raffv-N/s1998/CB113EC6-836D-4996-A900-640E221E345B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1998" data-original-width="1428" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HT_QQgBItV6bH1nM4fdazbVF0A4gNL1I_Q8DpdgStvmD83qzYUvZJipzDFQdD4JpoMV0bKaS1rdsDSa8bNPO3s9AM-86TG25DEbLALKgqvL6ZImR-KebyF5j_6I282V6l8kz4204b2r95flXf2KMD8kKg2Qb7doCfPMaVFDkIF0jWy_d8raffv-N/s320/CB113EC6-836D-4996-A900-640E221E345B.jpeg" width="229" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;">With Emily</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The pages</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Rustle, curl, flip</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Palm of my hand</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Settles them</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Absorbs</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">-----</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm sitting beside her</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Scraps of envelopes</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Chocolate wrappers</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Nestle within</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The white folds of her dress</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Auburn head</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bent upon slender neck</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No flirtatious ringlets -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">You resemble</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Your beloved Indian Pipes</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She laughs softly</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Glances up</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At her bedroom window</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her hand</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smooths Carlo's fur</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Repositions herself</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Within White Oak's shadow</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Brown eyes that see</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Far beyond this yard</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Glance my way -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">We are protected</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">She says</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">From what</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I want to ask</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But remain silent</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I watch her nourish</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Repurposed scraps</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sentence snippets</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fragmented together</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">With dashes and slashes</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Words looped and dotted</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her pencil pauses</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Midair -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Listen</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">With loneliness</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">With fullness</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">With loss</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">With Wonder</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">She whispers</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Pull life up</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">By it's roots</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her pen descends</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I watch </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Transfixed</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Seeds race across</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In slanted rows</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In curved</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Planted</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Blooming</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Someday edited</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some roots snipped</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By friends -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">You will be famous</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">One day</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She looks incredulous</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Almost scared</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Picks up her papers </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pencil tucked in her hair</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Walks toward warm bricks</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So solid, safe</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pauses</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smiles</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As birds serenade -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Birds sing</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">For independent ecstasy</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">She sighs</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Not for applause</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Nor recognition</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">As do I.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She slips away</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Invisible</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For now</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">_____</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Wind rustles my hair</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The pages</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Whip across my knuckles</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This afternoon with Emily</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Enchanting as usual</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: medium;">By Margaret Bednar, May 5, 2023</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Indian Pipe is a white flower that has a bent flower head.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was a favorite of Emilyโs. Carlo was her beloved big, black dog.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>She supposedly became more of a recluse as she aged - spent hours in her room. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span class="Apple-converted-space">This is linked with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/05/friday-writings-75-character-from-myth.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #75</a>"</span></span><span> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="s1" style="color: #dca10d;"><a href="http://bloggingdickinson.blogspot.com/">http://bloggingdickinson.blogspot.com/</a></span>. This blogger is doing โThe Dickinson Blog Projectโ reading and commenting all 1789 poems<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #dca10d; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://bloggingdickinson.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-birds-begun-at-four-oclock.html">http://bloggingdickinson.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-birds-begun-at-four-oclock.html</a><span class="s2" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>(where I got the reference)</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #dca10d; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Gorgeous-Nothings-Emily-Dickinsons-Envelope/dp/081122175X"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/Gorgeous-Nothings-Emily-Dickinsons-Envelope/dp/081122175X</span></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Book - The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinsonโs Envelope Poems</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="s1" style="color: #dca10d;"><a href="https://www.vulture.com/2019/04/behind-the-new-gloriously-queer-emily-dickinson-movie.html">https://www.vulture.com/2019/04/behind-the-new-gloriously-queer-emily-dickinson-movie.html</a></span>. VERY interesting article - I was intrigued how science detected the erased parts of Emilyโs letters to Susan.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>โโฆ But in the process of attempting to read copies of every letter Emily had written, Smith got distracted. โI start coming across things like seven lines erased, half of the page cut out, words erased,โ she tells me. โAnd Iโm like, <i>What in the world is this?</i> And so I asked to go see the manuscripts at Amherst College โ thatโs where most of the mutilated manuscripts are.โ Once there, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1998/11/29/magazine/beethoven-s-hair-tells-all.html"><span class="s3" style="color: #dca10d;">new spectrographic technology</span></a> made it possible for Smith to recapture what had been censored on the pages and to quickly realize that the lines being erased were โthese affectionate expressions about her sister-in-law, Susan.โ</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Two movies wildly different from each other;<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A Quiet Passion and Wild Nights with Emily</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="color: #dca10d; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s2" style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mutilations <a href="http://archive.emilydickinson.org/mutilation/mintro.html">http://archive.emilydickinson.org/mutilation/mintro.html</a></span></span></p></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-21477539863454547822023-05-03T12:36:00.009-04:002023-05-03T23:04:20.238-04:00Like Dickinson<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzl8Eg6DuMBEuUr7cqtJjUIZGO0_Bp-e2WxH7n7x4-oxpXWjZ2ibj0pZ5eYrqgT74OJU7s6S6D7rwi54-3vMAzJowPWswUSYcE9POWoPGwqrzhGM_xWS5161Ul02mniT3_nVRkKpHIwxF_EoG_BLMkt-9IO210zbfgGlSdjUf2Yl2GZkxFDGeKWsr/s4032/8793AF15-56DF-4155-90C4-F7F9A95C67B3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzl8Eg6DuMBEuUr7cqtJjUIZGO0_Bp-e2WxH7n7x4-oxpXWjZ2ibj0pZ5eYrqgT74OJU7s6S6D7rwi54-3vMAzJowPWswUSYcE9POWoPGwqrzhGM_xWS5161Ul02mniT3_nVRkKpHIwxF_EoG_BLMkt-9IO210zbfgGlSdjUf2Yl2GZkxFDGeKWsr/s320/8793AF15-56DF-4155-90C4-F7F9A95C67B3.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Doodling on a paper bag</span></div></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Like Dickinson</span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Torn envelopes, </span><span style="font-size: medium;">chocolate wrappers, paper scraps;</span><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Emily's words and sentence snippets</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">fragmented together -</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">wonders</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="font-size: medium;">for stationary</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">which hibernated in her desk drawer, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">waited for slanted ink </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">to nourish, to burnish its smooth surface -</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">similar to my stash of watercolor paper</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">upon a shelf, cold and hard pressed,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">imitating collectible artifacts on display -</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">recycled, brown grocery bags,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">newsprint; inspired torn envelopes</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">receiving favor of my mark, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">color and pattern explored. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Why do I balk </span><span>before a blank canvas? </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Did she </span><span>fear the perfection </span><span>of a pristine page?</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: red;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, May 3, 2023</i></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div>A poem I am not happy with. It really is more of a collection of ideas and a rough first draft and I have a whole other approach in mind... stay tuned. </div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-42729403977523604742023-03-18T22:33:00.007-04:002023-03-20T08:14:54.174-04:00Telephone<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbe81qaKT_NmysKEDQK6E4Lg1rQ7mcCoOvh-O6CcHeyD8YvGOHAZVs0C6V7_TROF4zgdFdYvolNBKdodhaiqw_qaaApZDLWKmbbtbR-Ii00qiIQnQmwc8rO8RgDBLVJY49YM8K6khhaYtq36aXkMz613-LFfvrxraVmQo0gWrEH-6FlvWz1tD81n-/s3651/4FAEF2D6-D513-43E4-8C7C-F573B0341964.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2608" data-original-width="3651" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbe81qaKT_NmysKEDQK6E4Lg1rQ7mcCoOvh-O6CcHeyD8YvGOHAZVs0C6V7_TROF4zgdFdYvolNBKdodhaiqw_qaaApZDLWKmbbtbR-Ii00qiIQnQmwc8rO8RgDBLVJY49YM8K6khhaYtq36aXkMz613-LFfvrxraVmQo0gWrEH-6FlvWz1tD81n-/s320/4FAEF2D6-D513-43E4-8C7C-F573B0341964.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Telephone</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">"Six cats smoking cigarettes</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">watch two kangaroos cartwheeling</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">over three charming chimpanzees"...</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">words whispered, giggled, gypsied</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">down telephone line,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">exchanged and overflowed with foolery</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">your face mirrored shock, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>final translation received, </span>quite distorted </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">(I made sure of that).`</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Enjoyed watching you clean up </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">"Sexy sirens swearing</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>watch two ken dolls </span><span>kiss </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">while chugging three champaigns"</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">(quite smart-ass for third grade!)</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">into something acceptable. Still doing it,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">helping my sorry self get out of scrapes,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">you, little Scarecrow, guiding my Dorothy<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">down life's yellow brick road.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Big sister to my little.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, March 18, 2023</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Playing along with <a href="http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2023/03/word-garden-word-list-randy-newman.html#comment-form" target="_blank">Shays Word Garden List - Randy Newman.</a> 20 words use 3. I used 13: cats, charming, cigarette, gypsies, kangaroo, mirror, overflow, sailor, scarecrows, smart-ass, sorry, telephone, yellow.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Also joining "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/03/friday-writings-68-light-as-feather.html" target="_blank">Poets & Storytellers United #68</a>".</span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-53581803706625605982023-03-03T20:48:00.004-05:002023-03-03T20:54:46.736-05:00Tomorrow<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3b0UbUIS-sXuXsB9UEW1Lj48K7EsYwVkT4KM4UtIxsO0u7uMMMzs_ix4zZ3TFFjT-kxdZxfwulbk4y3sB8mD1Y9VTSqJl8F0Tax0CqfOsWW39Ya7mQdUyWAKSuyBlxDKbO9lvccZ0dp53uHEh09_ftqcJT6-28zy4gQBMJZWMxUGiY7TcgbYpxTiC/s1048/67E100E8-3CE6-48A8-A33E-5DD9FB1F66A8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1048" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3b0UbUIS-sXuXsB9UEW1Lj48K7EsYwVkT4KM4UtIxsO0u7uMMMzs_ix4zZ3TFFjT-kxdZxfwulbk4y3sB8mD1Y9VTSqJl8F0Tax0CqfOsWW39Ya7mQdUyWAKSuyBlxDKbO9lvccZ0dp53uHEh09_ftqcJT6-28zy4gQBMJZWMxUGiY7TcgbYpxTiC/s320/67E100E8-3CE6-48A8-A33E-5DD9FB1F66A8.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;">Tomorrow</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Silhouetted beneath parasols, Victoria and Sophie</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">giggle and gossip morning away; Alberts, Theodores,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Virgils roll of syntax tongues as if candy,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"wedding' a word whispered, a word</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">with countless rules heartily studied and employed.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Louisa scoffs, swirls her gin, longing to replace</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">ladies "codebook" for adventure, to take on "peculiar",</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">foreign names, Iguanodon, Plesiosaurus, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">far more spectacular than Alfred or Gilbert.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, to basket the skies through fog and clouds,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">skyward balloons her hero, not puffed out chests of men.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To push limits of possibilities, demolish coy for brazen!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To be brave and bold like the falls of River Tess,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">tumbling and frothing, not reluctant nor reticent </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">...life a riddle to be solved!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Victoria asks Louisa why she is smiling. Louisa sighs,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"I'm thinking about tomorrow."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, March 3, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm playing in "<a href="https://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2023/02/word-garden-word-list-legacy-of.html" target="_blank">Shay's Word Garden - Word List - The Legacy of Ladysmith</a>". I used 13 of the 20 words (only had to use 3): codebook, foreign, peculiar, spectacularly, syntax, wedding, fog, coy, hero, demolished, reluctant, riddle, river</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Also linking up with the fabulous "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/03/friday-writings-66-in-face-of-disaster.html" target="_blank">Poet and Storytellers United Friday Writings #66</a>"</span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-76619429875207399982023-02-01T23:54:00.028-05:002023-02-07T16:19:11.764-05:00Jazz's Songbird<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GQly2ceTsWHyIlRYUupXYGFPnRDgnmq5qPYFoROexJXyafXCgrkgPB9D7dzoTstVqkBF1QtYWk-Ee4GKsWyhTNbn97TEgtSQOFxfE9iImMO8bm-UALnvI3gOWjOa3K0xEkABWuhZ2fIFbqnE_wDc_WMAg2J9B1t5itOgKsf_6OgkjxStdsmPKp5Q/s1672/10A6AEBA-6935-471F-85F1-0C78AE4D8E13.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1672" data-original-width="1284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GQly2ceTsWHyIlRYUupXYGFPnRDgnmq5qPYFoROexJXyafXCgrkgPB9D7dzoTstVqkBF1QtYWk-Ee4GKsWyhTNbn97TEgtSQOFxfE9iImMO8bm-UALnvI3gOWjOa3K0xEkABWuhZ2fIFbqnE_wDc_WMAg2J9B1t5itOgKsf_6OgkjxStdsmPKp5Q/s320/10A6AEBA-6935-471F-85F1-0C78AE4D8E13.jpeg" width="246" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">Collage by Margaret Bednar (click on image to enlarge)</span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: large;">Josephine Baker</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Saint or sinner, confetti or cinders,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">let the stars assay a force</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">so full of cadence and pitch.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Harlem's little runaway,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a cicada, she rose. Became -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paris's precious black pearl.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of diamond collared cheetah,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">gold piano, Antoinette's bed,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">sprung society's smokey voiced nightbird</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of seduction and farce.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Vienna's bells decried</span> belly dancer </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of bumps and grinds, beaded breasts</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">banana hips; "Beware, La Josephine!".</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Open armed lover, masquerading spy,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">flawed Madonna; mother of a rainbow tribe.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Salt and pepper her vibe.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A phoenix, feathers fanned </span><span style="font-size: medium;">above smoke </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of segregation and hate,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">America's watchlist. Became -</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">France's superstar of smuggled messages,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">embedded musical scores, and Charleston moves;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bronze Venus of the Night.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, February 1, 2023</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"<a href="http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2023/02/word-garden-word-list-george-hitchcock.html#comment-form" target="_blank">Shays Word Garden Word List - George Hitchcock</a>" used 4 words: cicada, cinders, confetti, masquerading. I rewrote this poem from last week. The original is below. Also, if you are interested in this amazing lady, see the links below.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is linked with "<a href="https://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2023/01/word-garden-word-list-janis-ian.html" target="_blank">Shay's Word Garden Word List - Janis Ian</a>" use at least 3 of 20 words. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I used 4: nightbird, smoke, society, superstar. it's a quick effort - i resorted to kind of a 'list" poem, but i wanted to play this week in Shay's Word Garden as i am so appreciative of her putting out this challenge. I plan on rewriting this but i have the concept down.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/PI8zt4gBTe4" target="_blank">HERE</a> is a clip of the fabulous Josephine Baker!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/JsKZJV-KJnY" target="_blank">HERE</a> is an interview with one of her adoptive children.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">original effort - rough draft:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Saint or sinner, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">impossible to say,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">a life so full of cadence and pitch,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">"inferior' taught, civil rights fought.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Harlem's little runaway, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Paris's black pearl,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">smokey voiced nightbird,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">open arms of lover and spy.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Charleston's belly dancer</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">of bumps and grinds,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">diamond collared cheetah and gold piano,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Marie Antoinette's bed.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Messages smuggled within musical scores,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">invisible ink embedded,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">America's watchlist</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">as segregation and hate she fled.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Society's prima donna</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">of banana hips and beaded breasts,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">church bells warned, 'La Josephine"!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Mother of a rainbow tribe.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Unforgettable ebony beauty,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">"salt and pepper",</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">highest military honors, a superstar</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Bronze Venus of the night.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-15598773700342704292023-01-21T18:03:00.016-05:002023-01-21T22:38:13.653-05:00Nostalgia<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxocCbNTJOOAkGq1uZF3mkCc6Nv1vl0d4KJg-mR3K3AW8CTuLXHglEc1QulttE2JW1reqab3exkDFfsKPJEeUOwRc3_Atyr7mJioRNaYbLrH9WwJuc1QjdCUeCc3bjiPAzfAKddC1QlrRUn1jzl4iS1E5PegVER_KpFTLvBuY-cM9J5ldVi6VsxQZx/s3781/F4CB3F1F-1394-4C3C-9AF6-623FC186A84B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3781" data-original-width="2825" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxocCbNTJOOAkGq1uZF3mkCc6Nv1vl0d4KJg-mR3K3AW8CTuLXHglEc1QulttE2JW1reqab3exkDFfsKPJEeUOwRc3_Atyr7mJioRNaYbLrH9WwJuc1QjdCUeCc3bjiPAzfAKddC1QlrRUn1jzl4iS1E5PegVER_KpFTLvBuY-cM9J5ldVi6VsxQZx/w261-h336/F4CB3F1F-1394-4C3C-9AF6-623FC186A84B.jpeg" width="261" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Collage by Margaret Bednar (click to enlarge)</div><br /><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"> Nostalgia</span><div><br /><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Moments were fleeced today </span><span>as I lingered, mid-summer, </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>inhaled Mother's</span><span> roses, marigolds, daffodils;</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>hummingbirds and bees </span><span>flitting </span><span>between foxgloves and tree.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Felt horses' hooves pound the earth, </span><span>heads and tails held high,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">galloping their way toward pasture gate,</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">scattering squawking blackbirds, bewildered.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Heard lawnmower grumble, </span><span>overgrown weeds beheaded</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>beneath tree-top fort, while </span></span>chickens purred </span><span>and pecked </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">their way upon the lawn.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Saw billowing linens carefully pinned</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>framing </span><span>stately sweep </span></span><span>of field bowing low</span><span> at river's edge;</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>railroad tracks a musical staff, fading into horizon's haze.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Wild red clover swayed like nymphs cavorting</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">within hayfield's embrace, plucked; </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">sweetly gentle upon my tongue.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Pasted behind closed eyes </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>this serenade </span><span><span>of summers past resides, </span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>a bit yellowed</span></span><span>; </span><span>only minutes lost, </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">a season of yesteryear gained. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><i><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;">by Margaret Bednar, January 21, 2023</span></i></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Playing along with "<a href="http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2023/01/word-garden-word-list-william-wordsworth.html" target="_blank">Shay's Word Garden Word List - William Wordsworth</a>" I used 8 out of 20 words: bewildered, blackbird, fleece, foxglove, hoof, overgrown, stately, and yellow. Also playing along with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/01/friday-writings-60-visitor.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #60</a>" AND "<a href="https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2023/01/18/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-21/" target="_blank">Girlie On The Edge's Six Sentence Story - Paste</a>"</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"> I'm off to a dinner date and will be back Sunday morning to read, visit, and comment. FYI - I have a bit of trouble at times getting my comments through to some of you who have WordPress. Please know I read almost everyone in these challenges. </span></div><div><br /></div></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-24807050514219449502023-01-13T18:17:00.012-05:002023-01-13T19:06:40.089-05:00Catastrophe<div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLze7T9JYYB0Cb4ZUSoRhbROe3oFHrSbHk4pXGMIg2r-ItMexall3tPmPA29Xg-e6vq30Ai8BzkQBK1Lm5FUZBo1RyfNts2Pqk7cW1S3pTLE0GAC7WbdgpIf_YzMYDmUe0_Jl3dP4fr2NFN5_dkHQkTdyKE5bHMdnzd-_UfjV7s1Nt5cbcY2kBBrP0/s3270/9371F26D-4A48-491F-9EEE-E025C1842C35.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2501" data-original-width="3270" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLze7T9JYYB0Cb4ZUSoRhbROe3oFHrSbHk4pXGMIg2r-ItMexall3tPmPA29Xg-e6vq30Ai8BzkQBK1Lm5FUZBo1RyfNts2Pqk7cW1S3pTLE0GAC7WbdgpIf_YzMYDmUe0_Jl3dP4fr2NFN5_dkHQkTdyKE5bHMdnzd-_UfjV7s1Nt5cbcY2kBBrP0/s320/9371F26D-4A48-491F-9EEE-E025C1842C35.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Collage by Margaret Bednar</div><div style="text-align: center;">(click on image to enlarge)</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Catastrophe</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Cerulean has softened</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">into a sapphire sky</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">as bridge between earth and moon</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">bows low.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Children cling with reverent hands</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">to ancestral spirits</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">while black cottonwoods' feathery catkins</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">tremble, their sacred roots dug deep</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">into riverbank's sides.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Crickets silence their song</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and adults with trembling voice</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">question "Mortals or Gods?"<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">as Luna escorts her Imperial Majesties,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">glass-faced and proud,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">before Earth's indigenous,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">crowned and uncrowned now equal,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">one small step, repaid.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">by Margaret Bednar, January 13, 2023</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Playing along with "<a href="https://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2023/01/word-garden-word-list-alicia-suskin.html?lr=1" target="_blank">Shay's Word Garden - Word List - Alicia Suskin Ostriker</a>". I used six of the 20 words: Catastrophe, Cerulean, Cottonwoods, Cricket, Feathery, Glassy (Glass)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Also linked with "<a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/01/friday-writings-59-wheels.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #59</a>"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Native Americans revered the black cottonwood tree. In some areas they are found along coastal river bottom lands. The trees were considered symbols of the sun, the birthplace of the stars, or the bridge between earth and sky. Its roots were used for carving kachina dolls, masks, and other ceremonial objects. A kachina is an ancestral spirit (there are more than 500) and they act as intermediaries between humans and the gods. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luna is latin for moon.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The images are of New Orleans Mardi Gras costumes! If this is what I would see instead of a ton of drunks with bad beads and tits and ass - I would be there! But I've heard too many horror stories. Funny enough, my father-in-law loved it (God rest his soul). </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-28760960588802164712023-01-06T23:41:00.011-05:002023-01-07T11:51:49.605-05:00Contentment <p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZw4MMhGc7tb7C8bm-Oph3J4aLCDXj3SSbovHU6SR2S3f87y9vyDgNonVEV8Qd-Zu4fn_Y8-LtBGZ7qOSkSxhOatn8PNPwDqGv7D_MBfq8KOgIyrHZ7G9RW7YkgSStHEw5Q5HA2z6Wl0I49exF8rhtE2dONr85MLZR3nXKJSL-7G0V3p3SvFcaIhR/s3220/73F37163-2536-4D3F-8724-AA5E60B3784A_1_201_a.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3220" data-original-width="2795" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZw4MMhGc7tb7C8bm-Oph3J4aLCDXj3SSbovHU6SR2S3f87y9vyDgNonVEV8Qd-Zu4fn_Y8-LtBGZ7qOSkSxhOatn8PNPwDqGv7D_MBfq8KOgIyrHZ7G9RW7YkgSStHEw5Q5HA2z6Wl0I49exF8rhtE2dONr85MLZR3nXKJSL-7G0V3p3SvFcaIhR/s320/73F37163-2536-4D3F-8724-AA5E60B3784A_1_201_a.jpeg" width="278" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;">Collage by Margaret Bednar</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">It's not like she needed a VISA to sing the songs of Kansas as she'd been born beneath this funnel-filled sky; hardship and toil were second nature. And yet, she'd don her hat, her white lace and turquoise rings fanciful embellishments only in competition with the ever-present sun, twirl and sing in the swaying fields as if she was Maria Von Trapp atop her Swiss mountain. I was blinded by mortality's mud and dirt, seeing decay; my songbird saw glinted gold in the fields as the larks lifted their wings and beaks toward heaven. </span><span style="text-align: left;">Endless sky, endless land, a few gentle hills a long way distant, enough to keep my eyes searching, longing for a future far from here; her eyes content upon the Kansas dust-filled prairie. </span></span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sit here now where the old hen house used to be, where we had heart-to-hearts, rested within the heat with the cooing hens, running a hand across the warmth of their feathers as they murmured to unhatched chicks. My eyes settle upon the spot where she fades gracefully beneath her earth; how I can still feel her, hear her; blessed I watched her closely, learned to unfold my wings, let the thistles fall, allow the songs in my chest a passport home.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">by Margaret Bednar, January 6, 2023</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Playing along with "<a href="https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2023/01/04/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-19/" target="_blank">Girlie on the Edge's "Six Sentence Story</a>" the word prompt: VISA</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-68364701537282580682023-01-04T23:19:00.026-05:002023-01-07T00:25:00.449-05:00On Display<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZ2g4i6EIoDKR2EePoscwPPfb1skJUQyAInkxRsz88OEgCorytHbnnC7FQqNfloaenyrvFZAcwg0uKdsSH2WWiZxCx8ourD0bVhdB4zNW3-iTLrbVP6WYpUAWV99OEwtAmu9nrYy9k_dmA1Dj7JYjQSVRyrGzoxm8iRo_O7kq6Rg3hoINQvJKqgfs/s3811/378FD34C-976C-4A95-A329-4111206A23A5.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3811" data-original-width="2732" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZ2g4i6EIoDKR2EePoscwPPfb1skJUQyAInkxRsz88OEgCorytHbnnC7FQqNfloaenyrvFZAcwg0uKdsSH2WWiZxCx8ourD0bVhdB4zNW3-iTLrbVP6WYpUAWV99OEwtAmu9nrYy9k_dmA1Dj7JYjQSVRyrGzoxm8iRo_O7kq6Rg3hoINQvJKqgfs/w268-h375/378FD34C-976C-4A95-A329-4111206A23A5.jpeg" width="268" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Collage by Margaret Bednar (click to enlarge)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Listen to me read my poem (at bottom of this post)</div><p><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: x-large;">On Display </span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jam jars, cherry, grape, and rhubarb</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">lined our cellar shelves. I'd descend,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">explore Mother's bounty:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">tomatoes, beans, corn, pickles, carrots...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Imagined all replaced</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">with that which sustained me:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">heroes and heroines, the famous and infamous,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">dinosaurs, birds, mysterious sea creatures.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Ball jars filled with pickled faces, </span><span>fins, and feathers, </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>fields, clouds, </span><span>and the deep blue sea...</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Remember wandering</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Chicago's Museum of Science & Industry,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">stumbling upon ghostly "babies in a bottle";</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">purity and mortality forever coexisting.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Unsettled replaced with awe,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>faith in God rebirthed</span>; a tale no more.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">_ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ .</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mother often hummed in her garden,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">planting, weeding, growing,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">eventually uprooting, preserving.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smiled when she heard the ping of the seal,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">mason jars ready for display,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">her nurturing heart satisfied.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: medium;">by Margaret Bednar, January 4, 2023</span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">IS ANYONE INTERESTED IN A WEEKLY PROMPT CHALLENGE USING MY COLLAGES for poetry and/or short story? Let me know in comments - I can start them next Thursday the 12th. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">playing along with Shay's "<a href="http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Word Garden Word List - Keith Reid</a>". I used 9 words: descended (descend), explore, replaced, wandered (wandering), ghostly, purity, mortal (mortality), humming (hummed), tale.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Two links to the Chicago Museum of Science & Industry "babies at gestational stages" exhibit. These are real, so if you have issues with this topic do not watch. I have always understood that these were stillborn at each stage of development and donated to science back in the 1930's. https://<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3v95DuyN7IU" target="_blank">www.youtube.com/watch?v=3v95DuyN7IU</a> and https://<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xh5INPPZS2E" target="_blank">www.youtube.com/watch?v=xh5INPPZS2E</a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>I invite you to listen to me read my poem:</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><iframe allow="autoplay" frameborder="no" height="300" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/1418408158&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Interstate, "Lucida Grande", "Lucida Sans Unicode", "Lucida Sans", Garuda, Verdana, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; font-weight: 100; line-break: anywhere; overflow: hidden; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap; word-break: normal;"><a href="https://soundcloud.com/margaretbednar" style="color: #cccccc; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Margaret Bednar">Margaret Bednar</a> ยท <a href="https://soundcloud.com/margaretbednar/on-display" style="color: #cccccc; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="On Display">On Display</a></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-57843072281014377092022-12-14T20:11:00.010-05:002022-12-14T21:05:03.601-05:00Grandfather<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhithfbhegpL1R5e2lNnAKyX9-WtoAq9WZXKFmXdmFBY8ePt3Z5gDrO-Mdkk1dXRGZApPLG6ZQwW0bldqOjBb6m2SsbyhzXm9vqN0mufzuKpjq-xMNWsR8qKOzuCHutfnwBGVAu44jHz2h7qXBNwkPCOPYmL4hdkgVWPVNXHIBjqvWNbqJkOqAnXb2-/s1149/D5F92E81-2153-49ED-8382-C7046093C344.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="1149" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhithfbhegpL1R5e2lNnAKyX9-WtoAq9WZXKFmXdmFBY8ePt3Z5gDrO-Mdkk1dXRGZApPLG6ZQwW0bldqOjBb6m2SsbyhzXm9vqN0mufzuKpjq-xMNWsR8qKOzuCHutfnwBGVAu44jHz2h7qXBNwkPCOPYmL4hdkgVWPVNXHIBjqvWNbqJkOqAnXb2-/s320/D5F92E81-2153-49ED-8382-C7046093C344.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My youngest son who is in high school now! </div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> Grandfather</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It's the freedom of childhood,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">raised high, secure,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">knowing Grandfather won't let go;</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">playing "I Spy" when laughter erupts.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It's horizons, youthful and old,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">merging, finding common goals.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Beneath necklaced peaks of yellow gold</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span> and sunset clouds of Touraine blue,</span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>'long old black bears trail</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>resides gossamer lit havens and veiled vaults,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>glimpses of time begun,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>viewed upon swaying bridge.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>Trading preconceived notions</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>of boring, for adventure tapped</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>when living begins.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>Remnants, delicately interwoven</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>amidst folds and cracks layered ancient:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>triumphs, tragedies, truthful tales</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>of character and struggle</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>along hidden, well-worn paths,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>beneath blood-red sourwoods </span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>and pumpkin-hued beech.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>It's finding joy in each other,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>guidance along rocky paths,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>a safe place to rest one's head;</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">of wisdom shared</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">and shoulders strong.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, December 14, 2022</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Playing along with "<a href="https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2022/12/14/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-16/" target="_blank">Girlie on the Edge's Thursday Six Senctence Story</a>". Word is VAULT.</i></span><i style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>I used to live in Boone, NC where Grandfather Mountain is a destination for locals and tourists. We climbed parts of it many times. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Grandfather Bednar passed away, but he was full of life and love. He was very important in our lives and my children adored him. He had a love and personality as big as a mountain.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Grandfather Mountain's original Cherokee name was "Tanawha" meaning fabulous hawk or eagle. It is steeped in Native American lore. HISTORY about Grandfather can be read <a href="https://grandfather.com/history/" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</i></span></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3074509503476824621.post-91818876395990850952022-12-13T21:40:00.007-05:002022-12-13T22:07:47.019-05:00Stars & Moonbeams<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrA8eOx6NVsdbYYnZbXPu_qKLtc5L4UR2OkX0Eb7_WEg-Y6C1CLxSrgWhgeMGObNjLkD4t0zNnJ4BVeaCKny-DbCX0uEBMUT9XhkIwj4YqxEZvsAoOuVKGxuLDPkNv5EJ-elE1aVu18N67iAMGa2s5VAFSpvO2gHVPDuzABEwUTnja84RcHqPhQQd/s2193/33997DC4-F3F6-497A-AE10-209BCA128330.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1566" data-original-width="2193" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrA8eOx6NVsdbYYnZbXPu_qKLtc5L4UR2OkX0Eb7_WEg-Y6C1CLxSrgWhgeMGObNjLkD4t0zNnJ4BVeaCKny-DbCX0uEBMUT9XhkIwj4YqxEZvsAoOuVKGxuLDPkNv5EJ-elE1aVu18N67iAMGa2s5VAFSpvO2gHVPDuzABEwUTnja84RcHqPhQQd/s320/33997DC4-F3F6-497A-AE10-209BCA128330.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div> <p></p><p><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">Stars & Moonbeams</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Winter's fast approaching</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and what's left of Autumn gold</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">resides in tonight's evening sky</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">whose embers illuminate</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">flocks of southbound geese</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>slipstreaming their way </span><span>into the night</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">where they will surf celestial stars </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">and wing their way through moonbeams.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: medium;"><i>by Margaret Bednar, December 13, 2022</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Playing along with "<a href="https://dversepoets.com/2022/12/13/st-lucy-bringing-light-into-the-darkness/" target="_blank">dVerse Poetics - St. Lucy - Bringing light into the darkness</a>". The photo I snapped tonight (it's two blended into one image) and knew I had to write a poem. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.com13