Wonderment

Wonderment

Sunrise seemingly slept in this day
as remnants of moonlight remain
from wintersweet sky,
clouds seemingly hand-spun, perhaps felted.

Chaste mauves, mellow mangos, sedate grays
waterscape morning's horizon,
cocoon me between sand dunes
as if I'm a mermaid with sea-salted hair.

Battered coral and broken shells speckle and glint
beneath watchful eyes of seagulls pronouncing
"Day's begun!"; industrious scavengers
whose work has yet to be done,

begging, stealing.  And I indulge them,
content to offer my bagel and a prayer,
watch both soar over heads of a mother and child;
remember when I first showed my babes

their first glimpse of the sea.

by Margaret Bednar, March 11, 2020

This is linked with "Poets and Storytellers United - Weekly Scribblings #10 - Early Bird or Night Owl?"

I just got back from a relaxed stay in Florida's (the USA's) oldest city of St. Augustine and the beach.  Great food, great history, and glorious (gray) morning sunrises.  The sun, even hidden behind the clouds, is a wonder to me.

Hold Tight

A sketch I did just the other day from a photograph taken 8 or so years ago
... seems like yesterday.

Hold Tight

There is something so endearing
about my little boy's silhouette,
delicate neck above narrow shoulders
and waist dwarfed by shorts
that flood past knees
and shade bare, dirt-dusted feet.

Last vestigates of pudginess
cling to lengthening limbs,
which increasingly take him far
from my protective reach.

The lake is deep, tree roots
snake in and out along the steep bank.
I warn him to watch his step,
"I will, Mom"; try not to hover
yet it's second nature.  Sees me coming,
he runs, I shout, he laughs.

The darkness of the water scares me,
of course, he's oblivious,
fascinated as he is looking for turtles,
fish, dragonflies, and such.

Notice Mother Duck's having trouble
keeping her own swiftly growing chicks inline;
my mind scampers to my other five
(check text messages, see if they need me)
call my youngest to me, spread out blanket,
hold tight to this moment, this little boy.

by Margaret Bednar, January 7, 2020

This is posted with "dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar - Critique & Craft - Soliloquy"

Abeyance

Abeyance

I trace his spine with my finger,
along elastic-waisted pants threatening to slide past slim hips,
trace up spindly arms, over narrow shoulders to the back of his neck.
Smile as I flick my finger over wayward hair frolicking with lake's breeze,
Blue by his side, the pair silent; a rare occurrence for this boisterous pair.

This photograph, a treasury of feelings; of a young mother not comprehending
how quickly her sons would grow, daughters outgrow dolls,
how soon her mother's hand would be empty;
and the family dog, age, not able to keep up with his kids.

Shrouded in memories, I want to tell her not to waste a moment,
immerse herself in each day, laugh, play, hug them 1000 times,
10,000 times.  Soak in still moments; dishes and laundry can wait.

My mother's heart wishing I could do it all over again,
knowing what I know now.

by Margaret Bednar, July 25, 2019

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sanaa's Challenge - I Like for You to be Still".  Use the reference to Naruda's title in a poem.  

Nurturing

123rf

Nurturing

This poem is a fresh breeze.
This poem is a comforting hug.
This poem sheds a tear.

This poem is morning's mist
ascending mountain's valley,
buoyantly poising upon her crowns
before soaring freely skyward.

This poem is a mother's arms,
reassuring, a tender stroke
upon weary cheek, soothing words
gently whispered, eyes adoring.

This poem is a light
that doesn't flicker, memories
fostering confidence, a love
that nurtures, guides...  lets go.

This poem soars upon a fresh breeze.
This poem heartens with a comforting hug.
This poem nurtures as it sheds a tear.

by Margaret Bednar, February 21, 2019

Morning's mist is also supposed to be a metaphor for a child...  The poem is a "Boomerang Metaphor" poem created by Hanna Gosselin a few years back.  I have linked up with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Wordy Thursday with Wild Woman - Hannah's Boomerang Metaphor Form".

I am a bit behind in visiting and commenting on a few poetry challenges and I will be getting to that today.  I have been busy organizing and getting ready to pack for the move to our house we purchased - our back yard is a beautiful view of the Blue Ridge Mountains and I can't wait to share them with you.   I also have two new puppies - Irishdoodles, 13 weeks old and they are keeping me hopping as well!

This is Red with my son.  Irishdoodle - we also have his brother, Blue.