Thursday, August 15, 2019



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

by Margaret Bednar, August 15, 2019

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

by Margaret Bednar, August 15, 2019

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

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

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

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