Friday, January 30, 2015



Beneath lavender clouds
I walk fields of scented rows;
morning's first blush saturated with
devotion -

and with lips hesitantly shy,
I reacquaint and caress verse
pocketed long ago; childhood's seeds
taking root.

by Margaret Bednar, January 30, 2015

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Transforming Thursday - Lavender Fields" and "dVerse - Meeting the Bar  - The Cinquain expanded"  dVerse asked us to add a syllable to the traditional cinquain format - so the count is 3-5-7-9-3.

Nature - especially sunrise and sunset - moves me, as I'm sure it does most people.  As for my poem, I think this is many a parent's wish - that children, if they stray from their faith, will one day find a way back to what was instilled in them at a young age. 

Tuesday, January 27, 2015



Dandelion chains and lavender twists;
innocence in braided curls.
Lacy dresses and sugary smiles

capture not a glance

from bedlam boys still sporting
puppy-dog tails and spit-smoothed hair.

by Margaret Bednar, January 27, 2015

Yes, little girls grow up far faster than little boys…

This is for "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - The Tuesday Platform"  and 'dVerse - Poetics - Excuse Me, There's a Hair in my Poem!"

Monday, January 26, 2015

"Red Sky"

"The Lovers' Boat" Albert Pinkham Ryder 1881

Beneath a fading red sky you taught me to blush,
made poetry come alive.

I returned the favor.  Sent you home
with my sighs in your pocket.

by Margaret Bednar.

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Play it Again #13"  The archived challenge I chose was Mama Zen's Words Count - Twitter poetry - 140 characters or less.

My poem is exactly 140 (with no title).  The image is one I took at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington D.C.  I do not remember if "The Lovers' Boat" is really this red - I may have had my flash on which is unusual of me - but either way, I used it as inspiration for my poem.

Friday, January 23, 2015



I want to feel the winding road
in the palm of my hands,
laugh into the rearview mirror
and like what I see,
fall out of line with what's expected,
give in to wanderlust;
lose myself for the weekend.

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Words Count with Mama Zen".  In 60 words or less (10 more if we can make her blush) Mama Zen asks us to write about what we are hungry for.    School days and responsibility, this time of year, have me chomping at the bit.  Two days certainly limits the places we can go… (and so does their homework)

The image above is a photo of mine using the "Waterlogue" App.

I did tweak my poem a bit from my original entry…

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Dark-eyed Junco

Dark-eyed Junco

With little gray hood and downy vest
she hunches against winter's chill

almost overlooked
until musical tinkling attracts my attention -

find her perched as if on a half note;
no diva, just a performer enjoying her craft.

by Margaret Bednar, January 20, 2015

I believe this is a female - her back looks a bit more brown as the males, I believe are a bit more gray.   This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - The Tuesday Platform".

Sunday, January 18, 2015

The Struggle at the End of Joy

Mary's beloved Mystic

The Struggle at the End of Joy

China is prettier
when shattered pieces
assemble into something new,

when the morning sun
glints off these colorful creations

and I feel reborn -

that is until afternoon unquiets my mind
and I try outrunning my shadow,
horse and I gallop, hair flying,

until wind rips the scream from my lips,
shatters the mosaic inside my head,

and the only voice I hear is mine.

by Margaret Bednar, January 18, 2015

This poem is not about me.  A wonderfully intelligent, artistically talented woman ended her life a few days ago.  Mary suffered with bi-polar / manic-depression.   Mystic gave her great joy and she wrote about her horse on her blog "Galloping Mind"  Following is an article that ran in the O'Henry Magazine entitled "Gloriously Imperfect" A part of her life story and the images of her uniquely beautiful house begin on page 56.

My poem is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - In other words".   This sliver of a depressing poem is what my mind keeps going to - the end of joy - the despair she felt these last few months.  But she WAS so much more.

If only she had listened to and believed the voices of others.

RIP, Mary.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

A Comfort - of sorts

Fireblossom Friday - Winter

A Comfort - of sorts

If there's any spark left
it's a fading ember
where a summer's kiss
or winter's caress
along your naked spine
lingers no longer -

where my hand in yours
brings you warmth

as I remember the burn.

Margaret Bednar, January 15, 2015

I'm playing in the "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Fireblossom Friday - Winter".  Hop on over and enjoy the fun.

Monday, January 5, 2015

The Blue Jay

The Blue Jay

Rather rakish, this dandy
with flashes of shimmering blue,
tilted head, and confident air.

Boldly strikes a pose
for no one but himself;
non-chalance part of his charm.

If I approach, he's off -
no time for dalliance; cocks his hat,
struts about important business,

no sweet song offered.
Yet each morning,
I'm thoroughly charmed.

by Margaret Bednar, January 5, 2015

My backyard butts up to a small forested edge and I have a Blue Jay that is walking and pecking away every morning through the leaves and twigs.  I have only been able to photograph him through my window.  If I go outside he flies into the woods behind twigs and logs and continues looking for food - and where my camera has a hard time capturing him.  I have a songbird feeder and I have not seen the Blue Jays eat from it.   I am reluctant to buy a blue jay "open house" feeder as it would just attract the many squirrels I have.

Makes me almost wish for snow, as wouldn't he look magnificent silhouetted against a bit of white?

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Flash 55".  

Friday, January 2, 2015

"January First"

January First

"What the new year brings to you will depend a great deal on what you bring to the new year." Vern McLellan  

Morning's shadow has yet to drape dewey grass;
barren trees stretch and yawn as birdsong rises and falls
into the last lingering crevices of night.
Routine has me filling the bird feeder
(much to house finche's delight) and walking the dogs,

but I've risen early to embrace this new year of many changes,
and like a feather, (hopefully as beautiful as my red winged friend)
I intend to twirl gently, enjoy the sensation of free falling -
trust letting go can be as easy as that.

by Margaret Bednar, January 1, 2015

Linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - "Bits of Inspiration - Happy New Year" & "Get Listed