Friday, June 29, 2018


image from: Top 10 Ways to Destroy Earth 

Bitterness is jaundiced eyes
trying to recall seaside view
of aqua, turquoise, azure...

remember when slate
was a favorite neutral.

Now it chokes,
reserved not for shadows or rolling mists of fog
but seeps beneath my skin;

pewter, charcoal, ash contrast with flint and silver
on a good day.

Tears can’t  wash away gray;
memory slowly losing grip of seasonal glories
as I glimpse remnants of earth from afar;

ponder my own guilt
in caring too late.

by Margaret Bednar, June 29, 2018

My take on "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Kerry Says - What is Spec Fic?"  I almost didn't participate as this kind of doom and despair writing and/or imaginative futuristic fiction is very hard for me!  

Friday, June 15, 2018



What is it that whispers from forest's edge,
wooing with winsome charm and fawn-like shyness;
from narrow shadowy paths tucking themselves
between mountain boulders and bursting rhododendrons

modestly giving way to a boldness, a distant vastness
of vibrant greens, slate blues, fading grays
that takes my breath away?

What is it that calms from old fishing shore,
tickling and tempting toes to journey further
into a coolness that laps knees, belly button, shoulders
as swirling concentric circles are sent forth from fingertips
playing ocean's surface?

I guess it's a reverence, a bit child-like; sensitive,
even hesitant as I listen for answers to questions
I keep deep inside, some since childhood -
find I can release a few upon time worn path,
mountain breeze, some upon ever-expanding ripples

not needing a solution after-all.

by Margaret Bednar, June 15, 2018

Playing along with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - What the ... a nod to Walt Whitman"

Saturday, June 9, 2018


mountain breeze,
hitches a ride
galloping tandem, lifting mane and tail.

by Margaret Bednar, June 9, 2018

linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Fussy Little Forms - Tetractys".  A line count of 20 syllables (1, 2, 3, 4, 10)

Friday, June 8, 2018

Haibun - Beech Mountain's Oz

I can't decide which I like best, dappled sunlight upon yellow bricks flirting with bright red poppies or refreshing raindrops gently dripping from the canopy of trees that line our way to Oz.  We aren't in Kansas but high atop Beech Mountain with roads that rival the path I'm on, twisting, hugging pendulous terrain.  It's the land of Subaru, not munchkins, land of hardy shoe, not ruby red slippers.  Yet, it's as if all the bluster from the West lost its adrenaline, dropped Aunt Em's house in North Carolina where Over the Rainbow's sung on the front lawn, old tractor and front porch set the scene, bicycle and basket lean against split rail fence; even grey clouds hover above.  The door to the house is open, golden yellow and minty greens recently washed clean glow as if in full technicolor; bird-song trickles from tree branches, children's excited voices lull as familiar music cues and Dorothy steps from the corner of the big red barn with blue-gingham dress, braids and a song inviting us to believe.

Raindrops tap windowpane,
refresh red poppies,
revive old heart-felt tales.

By Margaret Bednar, June 8, 2018

Haibun (prose followed up with a Haiku)  This is not a traditional 5-7-5 haiku but it does have a 17 syllable count.

My youngest daughter is one of the Dorothys at Beech Mountain's "Oz" days on Friday's through June.  I will be able to take the tour at the end of June and I hope to video tape her singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow.  If I'm lucky enough to be allowed, I will share it here.

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Toni's Challenge - Fifty Shades of Rain"  I hope my setting part of the scene with "kisame" (rain that drips from tree branches) fits the challenge.