"Late Autumn"

Late Autumn

High crimson has faded
to cadmium & ochre,
slashes of burnt umber
pirouette and plie a mirrored reflection

an image so lovely
even Narcissus would see
beauty beyond himself.

A dark eyed Junco hops along,
scratches, stirs soggy leaves,
rustles his way beneath graceful arms
of the bog's grand ballet

oblivious of solo performance
and his brief moment of fame.

by Margaret Bednar, December 9, 2014

This is linked (a tad late) with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's - Open Link Monday"

"Youthful Enthusiasm"

Youthful Enthusiasm

Virginia Nightingale flashes cardinal red
amongst elderberry and beech,
flutters about, orange beak tilted over wing and tail.

Upon woodland path two feet still, finger points,
a first entry upon his list, checked.
Sketches Daughter of the Sun, flips page and says,

"Now for a Bald Eagle!"

by Margaret Bednar, November 25, 2014

He has quite the "birding" hat, doesn't he?

My youngest and I are beginning a new hobby - birding.  My youngest daughter made the comment it was for "old people" but I know my 7 year old son surely enjoyed it.   We stilled ourselves and waited for the forest activity to resume.  And boy did it!  A squirrel almost dashed into us and we saw two types of woodpeckers as well.  I will post photos and a poem I'm sure soon.

My son said he thought he saw an Eagle !!!!  and then said "Nevermind.  It's a plane."   I might have to get him better quality binoculars.

"Daughter of the Sun" is a Cherokee name for the cardinal and another name is "Virginia Nightingale".

And so… I've started a birding journal blog "(not merely) Ornamental" click or find it on my sidebar.

This poem is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday"

"Mabry Mill"

Mabry Mill

On its way toward Meadows of Dan
a mountain road ribbons its way
past blacksmith and gristmill,
where laurels still curtsey
and fresh spring still gurgles
a slow and steady welcome.

Survival now a tourist's delight -
a fascination with buckwheat pancakes,
cobbler, and pond
rippling with a pair of white ducks.

A destination
where a third grade education
fostered ingenuity, industriousness,
and a simplicity almost forgotten.

by Margaret Bednar, October 20, 2014

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday"  I recently have spent two weekends enjoying the Appalachian Mountains in North Carolina and Virginia.  The Mabry Mill was built and operated by Ed & Lizzy Mabry - They also built a charming two story house which is no longer standing.  I purchased a book about the Mabry's written by park ranger Michael Ryan.  It was a short, but thoroughly enjoyable read.  It fleshed out this destination for me, made me really appreciate how much this place meant to the community, how much love and hard labor went into making it so.

HERE is a nice article about the mill in "Living Virginia"

Meadows of Dan 

"Seasonal"

Seasonal

"The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes
from the summer cottons into its winter wools."  Henry Beston

Leaves have yet to fall,
yet to flush golden, crimson, fire.
Horses yet to shed summer coats,
stand nose to tail beneath heavily laden trees.

Rose-purple blazing stars, rioting asters
drape field and valley.
Bees absorb Autumn's sun
as storm clouds gather.

Cattle tagged and fattened;
idyllic days slumbering - numbered,
as are canopies of olive, lime, and jade.

A flip of the calendar page or season's first frost.
Security and fate change as quickly as that.

by Margaret Bednar, September, 29, 2014

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday"

and Magpie Tales #239 where the image prompt is below.  I pondered the "security" offered beneath grand old trees and the change from summer to fall …

Autumn in Madeira by Jacek Yerka used with Magpie Tales #239

"Mid-Heat"

Mid-Heat

It's a secret world of silhouettes and caution,
of motionless pond lilies, gently swaying blue flag,
and cattails straight and true.

Of patience measured by the sun
and seasonal patterns ingrained as S-curved necks
wing overhead, thin, long legs trailing.

A tawny shadow flickers and fades, dandy drakes
promise momentary fidelity, and yellow belly sliders bask
beneath branches draped above water's stagnant edge.

All this is offered me, this resting during the mid-heat
of day.  One is wise to accept this as a gift,
clear the mind.  Just breathe.

Margaret Bednar, July 7, 2014

Linked with Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday.  I hope you can breath this in and feel what a beautiful bike ride I had on Sunday!   I was on my own, so I had no one to annoy when I wanted to stop, watch, and photograph.

"The Old City Wall"

Florence, Italy

"The Old City Wall"

Antiquity is a narrative

we often ignore,

march along its crumbling walls

oblivious of frescoed saints
and poets poised, marbled fingers 

with stories still to tell.

But for those who linger,

let the sun warm their shoulders,

a humbling occurs,

a blessing of wisdom bestowed.

by Margaret Bednar, June 10, 2014

I have been so busy these past two weeks - haven't been able to visit other blogs much - haven't written a single poem.   When I go this long without writing, I fear the creative juices will not come back - convince myself I can't do it.   But like all things, a break is probably a good thing - I just wish I could say I had travelled to Rome and Florence instead of the tasks which were at hand…

My daughter traveled to Italy and I have yet to see all of her photography - and can't wait to see the paintings from her this summer. 

I will be busy for the rest of this week as we have three "promotions" to celebrate - kindergarten, fifth and eighth grade all coming to an end… Summer begins for us next week!

"Life's Dance'

Life's Dance

Tulips are most glorious
come high spring,

flaunt not, as true beauty
graciously shares gifts
of which most are envious.

Lilies and dahlias
will have their day,

but for now light bows low
as the bell of the ball
savors life's brief dance.

by Margaret Bednar, April 28, 2014

Come read and share your poetry over at "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday"  This poem is linked there.

For the month of April, I am participating in NaPoWriMo2014 or National Poetry Writing Month.  The website is HERE.

In celebration of this year's challenge, I will be giving away a free book of my poetry.  If you are interested in participating in this drawing, please click the red logo at the top of my side bar and leave your name and a means to reach (blog, email, etc) you in the comment section.

PLEASE INDICATE YOU WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN THE DRAWING OR I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE JUST COMMENTING.  THANKS. 

"Unfolding"

Observing my daughters from the 5th floor balcony 

Unfolding

Renewal often ripples forth
like finely woven waves
loosening their pearls and knits
one, two at a time,
ensuring I don't unravel completely.

I seldom wake suddenly, rather
stir faintly, and so too, my intellect -
gently led, not so much by reason
but moments of sentiment,
when desire, grief, joy, pride,
shame, sympathy have long since
swelled and crashed my shore.

It's the lull of silence, of gentle
quiet times when I listen,
when truth unfolds.

by Margaret Bednar, April 21, 2014


This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday.

For the month of April, I am participating in NaPoWriMo2014 or National Poetry Writing Month.  The website is HERE.

In celebration of this year's challenge, I will be giving away a free book of my poetry.  If you are interested in participating in this drawing, please click the red logo at the top of my side bar and leave your name and a means to reach (blog, email, etc) you in the comment section.

PLEASE INDICATE YOU WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN THE DRAWING OR I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE JUST COMMENTING.  THANKS. 

"I'll Never Know"

I'll Never Know

Did my four nesting cockles
tumble gently in
beneath new moon's virginal gaze

or were they hurled
within the fury of a west-wind storm,
no moon in sight?

I'll never know.

by Margaret Bednar, April 14, 2014

For Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's - Open Link Night.

For the month of April, I am participating in NaPoWriMo2014 or National Poetry Writing Month.  The website is HERE.

In celebration of this year's challenge, I will be giving away a free book of my poetry.  If you are interested in participating in this drawing, please click the red logo at the top of my side bar and leave your name and a means to reach (blog, email, etc) you in the comment section.

PLEASE INDICATE YOU WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN THE DRAWING OR I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE JUST COMMENTING.  THANKS. 

"The Invitation"

The Invitation

I remember when you braided daisies,
wove them gently through your hair,
spun, unbridled -

remember when your tangled tresses
framed a face
flush with hope and sun.

Beneath today's clear blue sky,
will you take my hand and learn
to dream again?

by Margaret Bednar, (original Nov, 2012) updated April 7, 2014

This is a remake of an old poem I wrote back in November of 2012.  I find the old one rather clunky, didn't really capture what I wanted to express.  I think this version is closer.

This is linked with Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Open Link Monday.

For the month of April, I am participating in NaPoWriMo2014 or National Poetry Writing Month.  The website is HERE.

In celebration of this year's challenge, I will be giving away a free book of my poetry.  If you are interested in participating in this drawing, please click the red logo at the top of my side bar and leave your name and a means to reach (blog, email, etc) you in the comment section.

PLEASE INDICATE YOU WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN THE DRAWING OR I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE JUST COMMENTING.  THANKS. 

"The Coquina Castillo"

The Coquina Castillo

She's served six flags, birthed

of a Queen's command, fashioned

of ancient shellfish, lime, water, & sand -

has absorbed all blows, never bowed to force,

gracefully welcomes today

those who seek a peek inside,

run around upon manicured lawn,

or lean upon her bold, fortified walls

to listen for sounds of soldiers

from the past, for brave souls

who've never abandoned post.

by Margaret Bednar, March 24, 2014

Are the walls of the historic fortress, Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, Florida, haunted?  Some say yes!  This fort has protected soldiers, housed families - over 1,000 town folk, and kept many prisoners within it's walls - many stories held here.

Coquina is the impenetrable and shock absorbing mixture of ancient small shellfish that died long ago and whose shells have bonded together to form a stone.  The mortar was comprised of crushed oyster shells (which made a powder called lime) and was mixed with sand and water.  This mortar still holds the Castillo together today.  It took 23 years to construct, being completed in 1695.

My six year old son is standing beside the palm tree.

This is linked with Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Open Link Monday.

Below is an arial view of the fort which I took from this website:  Augustine  There was a moat around the castle as you can see more clearly below.

Not my video (I don't know the guy) but he does a pretty thorough tour (he really likes the canons)… it's about 9 minutes long.

"The Vacation"

The Vacation

From the vantage point
of an adirondack chair
I breath deeply,

toes salted white,
chin tilted heavenward, eyes resting
upon evening's colorful sash.

Exhale as ocean's breath
like southern sweet tea,
sugarcoats transgressions,

worries.  I'll pack them up,
carefully folded, carry them,
much lighter, homeward.

Treasure I've learned letting go
is nigh impossible and acknowledgement
isn't necessarily acceptance.

I'm my past, present, and hopes
for the future; an inseparable trinity,
my unique cross to bear.

Margaret Bednar, March 18, 2014

We all need more vacation time (and I'm not necessarily referring to the college age spring breakers ;)  to reflect, relax, and reinvigorate.   This is a photo of the last morning of my vacation on the beach of St. Augustine, FL.

This is for Imaginary Garden of Real Toad's "Open Link Night".  Obviously I am submitting late.

"An Invitation"

An Invitation

A frosted glance she sends my way,
shivers my spine and steels my breath,
dares me look with eyes afresh
upon her barren, frosted breast

where treasures lie, displayed anew.
A frosted gift she sends my way
quite diff'rent from her heated gaze
of languid blues and fanning lash

where time abides with gentle sighs
and lips a glist'ning with sweetened tea.
A frosted glance she sends my way
as if to say "Bundle up, quick,

don't miss this beauty of soft grey
where silence sings a soft sweet note
and wonder kisses crisp, pink cheeks.
A frosted gift she sends my way.

by Margaret Bednar, February 17, 2014

A dried & open Sweetgum ball (1 tree = hundreds of sharp "treasures'

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Sunday Form Challenge - Quatern".  I didn't' get it done in time, so I have also submitted it to "IGWRT's Open Link Monday".  

For the full details of what this form entails, please see the form link above.  I did use artistic license and changed the repeating line (first line in the first stanza) from glance to gift in alternating stanzas.  I also have one line that is only a count of 7 instead of 8 syllables. 

Her in North Carolina, we have a few patches of snow left, but the grey beauty is melting away…  

and for I Heart Macro #40, below:

"Wracking"

Wracking

Riding rolling waves over pirate ships, war,

graves of loved ones bound for Charleston

and destinations unknown -

a whelk, knobbed and streaked, 

laid to rest gently upon sand freshly piled high

amongst seagrass and vine.

What secrets have you seen, of history,

of mystery that swirls and churns about

treacherous Diamond Shoals?

Many lie neglected, battered, shattered 

beneath our feet, fragments further crushed,

pulled back into ocean's broiling waves.

Lone survivor, we basket you, wash, bleach, 

brush, oil, shine, place you upon a shelf - "collected" -

open many a book, search for what you can't say.

Margaret Bednar, February 3, 2014

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday".  Wracking is the "age old profession" of scavenging the beach.  We enjoyed two "winter" weekends on Hatteras and Ocracoke Island and found a lot of shells - but the shell found here was the only "perfect" large one we found.  We feel really lucky.  

The top image is also linked with "I Heart Macro - week #38"

Below is exactly how and where we found it on Hatteras Island, perched gently upon a sand dune amongst sea grass:

"Pink Ribboned Sky"

Pink Ribboned Sky,

Fluttering upon shoreline, your silvered reflection
shows true beauty.  Unaware of admirers,

you embrace all, choose no favorites.
Leave us poised silent, eyes tear away
only after you dip, sway, bat a silky last wink.

Collectively sigh as gray overtakes pier;
sand and seagrass blend into black.  Our hearts
pledge "We'll be back".  Each season, we are.

Faithfully,
the Vacationers

by Margaret Bednar, January 27, 2014

This is for my prompt for the past weekend over at "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Play it Again, Toads".   Also linked with IGWRT's Open Link Monday as I just got back from the North Carolina Outer Banks (where this image was taken!)

This is a prompt offered by Kerry O'Connor from December, 2014 HERE where we were challenged to write a poem in letter format.

"Respite"

Respite

Nature's fury
spent and weary -

all await
her gentle sigh.

Margaret Bednar, January 11, 2014

We had such cold here (for North Carolina) and last night rain, rain, rain and a thunderstorm.  I think the sun is promised to show up tomorrow along with temperatures in the mid 50's.  Thats a nice "sigh" for me.

Linking this with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday".

"Winter Beach"

Winter Beach

It's refreshing, this January beach
whose secrets still wash ashore,
offer my girls smoothed stones,
wave tossed shells, an odd feather or two.

Our cheeks flush from biting wind,
waves laughingly avoided -
not embraced as in June.

Yet this winter rush offers
a lingering sharpness of which
sun drenched days can't compete -

kind of like the difference between
chocolate chip mint ice cream
and rainbow sherbet:
one caters to the sweet tooth,
the other cleanses the palate.

With necks scarf-wrapped,
hands pocketed, we hurry along
the trackless sand, take the stairs
two by two to the boardwalk,

glance upwards as pelicans
glide single file against the soothing sky,
become our evening prayer.

by Margaret Bednar, January 6, 2014

Two of my girls and I visited the coast of Wilmington, NC this past weekend.  Windy, gusty, chilly and so fun!  This is linked with Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Open Link Monday.   Also linked with dVerse Poets Pub - Open Link Night #127.

"Skipping Stones"

Skipping Stones

I remember
fishing beneath the dam,
bass, catfish, pike? …
(they're all the same to me)
practically hurled themselves
onto our hooks.

Perhaps it was
the full moon's magic, perhaps
it was your presence beside me,
hand upon my back - either way,
I never thought fishing
would be so exciting.

I remember
sneaking sideways glances
as you showed me how
to skip rocks, a technique
you hadn't perfected.
We laughed, kept trying.

We never got around
to fishing again, never
stood shoreside beneath moon's
magic glow, touching -
but the easiness, the rightness
of it still lingers…

For over the years
love's the stone that triple skips,
glides, settles softly
beneath our ribs, other times
it plunks, plunges heavily,
leaves a splash upon our cheeks.

We still stand together
upon that bank
almost a quarter century
later "skipping stones"
hopefully continuing to laugh
and sneaking sideways glances.

by Margaret Bednar, December 2, 2013

My dear husband of almost 24 years will be 50 years old this upcoming weekend.  This poem is for him.

I hope all my American blogging friends had a wonderful Thanksgiving!  I was unable to even touch my computer, but am back on "regular" schedule now and am linking up with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday".

I will also be linking up with dVerse - Open Link Night #125 - starting Tuesday afternoon.  

"Gratitude and Thankfulness"

My niece's artwork

Gratitude and Thankfulness

Gnarled fingers accept each season,
Reach toward the sky
Asking no more
Than to be.
I have always admired
The strength of trees, their
Undisputed ability to bend, sway,
Displaying a wisdom we humans should
Embrace, not clearcut -

A spirit thats
Nectar is mother earth.
Do we ever

Think to pause from our rat race,
Hesitate for a moment
And give thanks for the day?
Not likely; prayers are often saved for Sundays, holidays,
Knowing flowery words will impress
Friends, family.  Peace, though, starts with
Us being thankful for what we have,
Leaving desires, wants - to rest.  Focusing on what we
Need.  It starts now.  Not tomorrow.  If
Everyone were like a tree, we would
Simply be silent.  Learn to listen.
Simply embrace the light.  Be satisfied.

by Margaret Bednar, November 25, 2013

This is for Laura's "Gratitude Quilt", asking us to write - unedited and letting the words flow - what we are grateful for in this moment?  The above acrostic poem is my response.  I am trying to learn to be thankful for NOW.  Today.  Trying to have an inner joy at all times.  To be satisfied with what I have, not desiring more, more, more.

Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Americans - and wishing everyone else peace and joy for today.

I am also linking this with "I Heart Macro - Week 28" and "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Open Link Monday".

"Madness"

Mike Worrall,  Artist 

Madness

From flamed maple and spruce
a tenor's voice vibrates
a song my fingers create

'til madness recedes,
mindlessly spins, loses itself
in a labyrinth of sensation.

How long repressed
is anyone's guess -
how long till the Minotaur

devours me whole?

by Margaret Bednar, November 11, 2013

The above painting is entitled "Poet's Corner".  Couldn't help but reflect on how many artists are on the verge of madness - and often are overtaken by it.

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sunday Challenge - artwork of Mike Worrall".   Also linked with Open Link Monday.