Wednesday, February 28, 2018

"Seize the Day"

My son and our Mackinaw who is know quite old...
Seize the Day

Possession is not an embrace
but a reluctance to let go, a suffocation,

certainly not an enfolding, a sharing.
Grasp not greedily but with fascination

nor with disregard, but with care.
Today is fragile for it has yet to be formed;

mold opportunity with a potter's hands,
unafraid, with an adventurer's heart.

Margaret Bednar, February 28, 2018

This is for "Poets United - Midweek Motif - Carp Diem - Seize the Day"    The photo doesn't exactly go with the poem but I loved the freedom of it - the exuberance.  

Tuesday, February 27, 2018



When savage storms warred upon night's void,
snapped power lines, felled trees,
I'd resurrect Oz's tornado
and Mother would smile, light candles.

Despite raging winds and bursting sky
the mellow flickering shadows hypnotized
and frolicked upon our walls
as Mother's voice became a rhythmic flute

and I, cocooned within Grandmother's quilt,
swung up and down, became lost
in a magical land of counterpane,
and the wind became a song...

by Margaret Bednar, February 27, 2018

This is an exercise offered by "dVerse Poets Pub: Poetics - finding Emotions and Concepts in Things" Our marching orders are to "write a poem that captures the concept without ever telling us what the concept is.  It will be up the readers of the poem to name the concept or feeling in the comments.  Take what you are feeling and make it so real through "things" that we'll be able to name it."

I will title this poem from the comments left by one of the readers...

A Child's Garden of Verses, by R. L. Stevenson was my favorite book (beside Cinderella) as a child.  I have both books still - very worn, very loved.  Oh, and Black Beauty as well.

"I'm Made Of ..."

I'm Made of ...

a bit of vice
(unfortunately not all that's nice)
and yes, the occasional dash of pettiness

childhood summers of red clover, horses,
hammocks and kittens

six sweet babes, some grown and flown,
a mother's earnest prayers

t-shirts and jeans, a few forgotten dreams,
a better understanding of sexiness

forgiveness and virtue, today's good intentions
rooted in yesteryears and wisdom gleaned

a smile, once shy,
painted frosted sugar plum.

Margaret Bednar, June 19, 2017

Reposting this poem as I participated late in the prompt a while back.  "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - The Tuesday Platform".

A fun prompt - one I'm afraid to dig into too much :)  "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Sunday Mini Challenge - What I'm Made of ..."

These red clovers always remind me of childhood - they grew in our hayfield and we would pick them and pluck them - and they were edible - during the hot summer days when we weren't allowed in the house we sat in the shade beneath the trees or on the porch - boredom wasn't something my parent's cared about :)

my favorite lipstick is "sugar plum" and I've always been addicted to frosted lipgloss - I'm a product of the '80's ... but I don't sport great big hair anymore :)

Monday, February 26, 2018

"The Trailride"

Red-bellied woodpecker
The Trailride

Past the dogwoods we tread, listen as bluebird sings,
horse's honey-colored ears twitching back and forth,
hooves rhythmic, flushing out a brown thrasher as he wings
his way further beneath the mint-green brush.
A mewing escapes a budding bush; smile as catbird sings
his deception and young purple berries balance upon the vine.
Thrill to glorious splashes of scarlet darting amongst spring's
sun-sprinkled foliage: cardinal, red-bellied pecker, northern flicker;
woodland's rainbow skirting flirtatiously beneath branches that swing
and sway to mountain's gentle breeze as raindrops tap,
tap rhythmically upon forest's dirt path as songbirds sing.

by Margaret Bednar, February 26, 2018

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Fashion Me Your Words - Rainbows".   We had to follow a set of rules which included end rhymes and repeated lines... click on the link for further info.

We've had some spring like weather here - we still have some cold snaps ahead of us but... the sun and breeze are promising wonderful things are around the corner.   Can't wait until this poem rings true once again and spring is here!

Thursday, February 22, 2018

"Note to Self"

Note to Self

How old will I be
when I stop holding my breath,
this nine year old self sure 
what I think doesn't matter?

Oh, I’ve plenty to say these days,
no longer avoid eye contact, head down,
teacher waiting, class giggling,
as I look at my fingernails, 
certain this moment will never pass…

but my heart still palpitates when words elude,
afraid of mispronouncing, misusing -
may even blush a bit, although at 52 
I'll falsely blame it on high blood pressure.

You've done enough damage,
glad with age comes bits of wisdom:
know to comfort, reassure you
instead of you trying to protect me.

It's time to hold hands, feel the sky

upon our shoulders, hear the sea
rush towards our toes and BREATH -

learn to love all that is me.

by Margaret Bednar

Monday, February 19, 2018

"In Remembrance"

In Remembrance

Damp and dreary today dawns, settles 'round my shoulders with a weary sigh.  Mo(u)rning mists my glasses as I shuffle through leaves fast becoming grey; contemplate life slipping away silently without fanfare.  No trumpet call, no pretentiousness; just color ebbing, leaving behind something once vibrantly splendid.  Even the lake's silvery stillness indulges my mood, reflects an egret's gliding grace; angelic white wings soothing as a sweetly sung southern hymn.  Canoes stacked, red, blue, green upon yellow, almost garish, hunker down for winter's bite yet able to yearn for spring's gentle caress and summer's bold laughter - but not these leaves.  They must dissolve into the earth from which the came.  I pick one up.  Pocket it.  Hesitant to let go.  Find myself looking back, remembering the glory that was.

A thousand todays I've walked, yet yesterday's greying bloom lingers.

by Margaret Bednar, February 19, 2018

An English haiku is usually 17 syllables (three lines with syllables 5-7-5) but some websites say it should be less in order for it to be tighter and more similar to a Japanese haiku.  I aim for about 17 - the Japanese haiku aren't always strict to their syllable count so I give myself a bit of leeway as well.  It should hint at at season and usually the topic is love.  I prefer to write it all in one line, not three, like the Japanese do.

I believe sorrow is best dealt with taking one day at a time and eventually becomes a bit comforting if we let it - the memories hopefully bring a smile to one's face instead of tears.

This poem is dedicated to Galen Haynes (aka G-Man) who passed away in December 2014.  I miss this intelligent and generously kind man's presence here in the blogging world.  I wrote this poem back in 2014, but I did tweak it a bit today:  added the grey reference which I think works well along with a few other minor changes, changed the format to a haibun, and added my (as always) feeble attempt at a haiku.

This is linked with "dVerse Poets Pub Haibun Monday - The beauty & the misery of grey"

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Politics as Usual

Politics as Usual

Passionate, broad-minded, and fair -
so we claim to be

yet the taught red line
drawn between us

quivers with irascible fear
where no reasonable voice is heard

as most are shouting
and others have fingers jammed in their ears.

by Margaret Bednar, February 17, 2018

If the dynamics don't change - if the vitriol and intolerance for ideas (I mean LOOK at the colleges today... they are afraid of diverse rhetoric and thought!  - it's "think like me or you offend me".)  but I digress...  doesn't stop, we are doomed to only get worse.    Our politicians on both sides are in it for the money and power - I mean please, point out one politician who is truly bi-partisian and is concerned for the good of our country and not securing a job in Washington D. C.

Let's start with: Term Limits, one six-year Presidency (no second term, NO campaigning), and I'd love to see a viable third party one of these days.

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Imagined by Brendan MacOdrum, Hasta La Vista, Wormtail: Satiric Verses"  My feeble attempt at satire.

Thursday, February 15, 2018



"The Heart wants what it wants" - Woody Allen

Desire (or dependence?) is a fervor
where "I love you" (or "I want you?")
is a succor from your lips I crave

and in the end, an indulgence

by Margaret Bednar, February 15, 2018

succor: help; relief; aid; assistance.

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Imagined by Rommy - "Love Hurts" - heartbreak/jealosy..."  A twist on Valentine's Day...

Also linked up with "dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar - Brevity"  Write a poem no more than five lines.

You have to love the 1980's -  One of my favorite movies that pokes fun of that time is Music and Lyrics with Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore.  I start laughing at the very beginning!

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

"The Passing" & "Dreams"


Reverie is not a fool's paradise
nor should a muse be dismissed.

Inspiration's worn as a crown,
carefully cupped in one's hand;

released when stars align
visions breath, and passion's ready to soar.

by Margaret Bednar, February 13, 2018

This is for ""  The image is by Catrin Welz-Stein and I encourage you to flip over to her enchanting designs.  HERE is her blog.  This image is one of four that have been approved by the artist to use with the dVerse poetic challenge.

These two poems are also linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Tuesday Platform"

I sometimes have a BAD habit of NOT reading all the rules closely before I write for a poetic challenge ...

I wrote the poem BELOW to one of Catrin Welz-Stein's images that was NOT one of the four granted for the challenge.  I will only provide that image if I get approval from the artist.

The Passing

Mortality is a mystery
(in the end) of repose or ruin,
paradise or destruction.

How to tell
the doves I release
are peacemakers or passive resisters?

Do I mourn you
or am I merely brokenhearted
over something veiled...

camouflaged behind
what should have been?

by Margaret Bednar, February 13, 2018

I sometimes have a BAD habit of NOT reading all the rules closely before I write for a poetic challenge ...

I wrote the above poem to one of Catrin Welz-Stein's images but it is NOT one of the four granted for the challenge.  I will only provide that image if I get approval from the artist.

Below is an approved image (one of four) and my poem.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

"The Journey"

The Song Writer
The Journey

The lyrics don't yet exist
as melody and harmony
have yet to tryst

a sip of beer, of burgundy,
a cafe vibe;
inspiration's urgency

awakens the inner scribe
and a word, a chord
begins to describe

a poet's horde
of passion and pain

within, explored,
often with tears, adored.

by Margaret Bednar, February 11, 2018

I love my poetic group "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads".  I am always challenged and I can't say my efforts are equally good, but it IS the exercise of stretching poetic muscles that inspires me.   This is for "Fussy Little Forms - Terza Rima"  When it comes to rhyme and "form" I tend to think my poetry gets a little cheesy.  But this was fun - anyone can join the fun ... Click on the link and give it a try :)  

Thursday, February 1, 2018

The College Boy(s)

The College Boy(s)

The timbre of his voice
makes waiting in line a rare pleasure -
wonder if he's a vocal major.
Notice he's always kind with the elderly.  
Handsome, not too clean cut,
locks almost girlish (or at least
that's what my husband would say),
his tall lanky youthful frame
promises a lean manly grace someday.
Always gently places vegetables
and fruit in my bag, careful not to bruise -
and I imagine his apartment neat and tidy -
an attribute not to be overlooked in a young man.

Confess I brought my daughter along today
careful not to comment or point his way
(a mistake I made with a young man
who works at the gym - swiftly and effectively 
banished to her "obituary column" 
also known as "Mom's failed attempts").

Hid my smile, making sure my eyebrow
remained in place as she commented
"He's cute".

Maybe this one will survive.

by Margaret Bednar, February 1, 2018

No photo today ... Can't even imagine my girls' reaction if I were to take this young man's photo ... They think I have embarrassed them in the past... this would put them over the edge.   :)  We live in a college town and there are a LOT of eligible young men working part time jobs... 

Linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Out of Standard - Eulogy for a stranger"  I LOOSLY followed the rules - instead of an outright eulogy I incorporated the idea of one (or sorts) into my poem...    I tried working it according to the rules but it wasn't working.