Nostalgia

Collage by Margaret Bednar (click to enlarge)

 Nostalgia

Moments were fleeced today as I lingered, mid-summer, 

inhaled Mother's roses, marigolds, daffodils;

hummingbirds and bees flitting between foxgloves and tree.

Felt horses' hooves pound the earth, heads and tails held high,

galloping their way toward pasture gate,

scattering squawking blackbirds, bewildered.

Heard lawnmower grumble, overgrown weeds beheaded

beneath tree-top fort, while chickens purred and pecked 

their way upon the lawn.

Saw billowing linens carefully pinned

framing stately sweep of field bowing low at river's edge;

railroad tracks a musical staff, fading into horizon's haze.

Wild red clover swayed like nymphs cavorting

within hayfield's embrace, plucked; 

sweetly gentle upon my tongue.

Pasted behind closed eyes 

this serenade of summers past resides, 

a bit yellowed; only minutes lost, 

a season of yesteryear gained. 

by Margaret Bednar, January 21, 2023

Playing along with "Shay's Word Garden Word List - William Wordsworth" I used 8 out of 20 words: bewildered, blackbird, fleece, foxglove, hoof, overgrown, stately, and yellow.  Also playing along with "Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #60" AND "Girlie On The Edge's Six Sentence Story - Paste"

 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.  

Catastrophe

 

Collage by Margaret Bednar

(click on image to enlarge)

Catastrophe

Cerulean has softened

into a sapphire sky

as bridge between earth and moon

bows low.

Children cling with reverent hands

to ancestral spirits

while black cottonwoods' feathery catkins

tremble, their sacred roots dug deep

into riverbank's sides.

Crickets silence their song

and adults with trembling voice

question "Mortals or Gods?"

as Luna escorts her Imperial Majesties,

glass-faced and proud,

before Earth's indigenous,

crowned and uncrowned now equal,

one small step, repaid.

by Margaret Bednar, January 13, 2023

Playing along with "Shay's Word Garden - Word List - Alicia Suskin Ostriker". I used six of the 20 words: Catastrophe, Cerulean, Cottonwoods, Cricket, Feathery, Glassy (Glass)

Also linked with "Poets and Storytellers United - Friday Writings #59"

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.  

Luna is latin for moon.

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).   

Contentment

 

Collage by Margaret Bednar

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.  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. 

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.

by Margaret Bednar, January 6, 2023

Playing along with "Girlie on the Edge's "Six Sentence Story" the word prompt: VISA

On Display

Collage by Margaret Bednar (click to enlarge)

Listen to me read my poem (at bottom of this post)

On Display 

Jam jars, cherry, grape, and rhubarb

lined our cellar shelves.  I'd descend,

explore Mother's bounty:

tomatoes, beans, corn, pickles, carrots...

Imagined all replaced

with that which sustained me:

heroes and heroines, the famous and infamous,

dinosaurs, birds, mysterious sea creatures.

Ball jars filled with pickled faces, fins, and feathers, 

fields, clouds, and the deep blue sea...

Remember wandering

Chicago's Museum of Science & Industry,

stumbling upon ghostly "babies in a bottle";

purity and mortality forever coexisting.

Unsettled replaced with awe,

faith in God rebirthed; a tale no more.

_ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ .

Mother often hummed in her garden,

planting, weeding, growing,

eventually uprooting, preserving.

Smiled when she heard the ping of the seal,

mason jars ready for display,

her nurturing heart satisfied.

by Margaret Bednar, January 4, 2023

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.  

playing along with Shay's "Word Garden Word List - Keith Reid".  I used 9 words: descended (descend), explore, replaced, wandered (wandering), ghostly, purity, mortal (mortality), humming (hummed), tale.

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://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3v95DuyN7IU and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xh5INPPZS2E

I invite you to listen to me read my poem:

Margaret Bednar · On Display