Farewell

My daughter and her "Prince"

Farewell

Farewell Golden Boy,

whose emerald eyes blinked sonnets,

whose throat purred poetic odes,

whose tail rhythmically rose and fell

upon the down, comforted with medicinal licks,

whose paws kneaded my chest,

whose nose kissed mine.

He was our prince, our peacemaker,

our little lion whose regal path

through dogs large and small

was punctuated with an exclamation mark;

tail, proud and tall, left no doubt

my daughter's bed was his.

by Margaret Bednar, July 28, 2020

Above is a photo of our sunset memorial on Ocracoke Island to our Westley.  

down = down comforter (he liked a soft, fluffy comforter :)

We have lost a great soul to the "other side".  Our dear cat, Westley.  He is another animal who helped me raise my children, comforted and loved them. He was one reason my daughter made sure to come home and visit from college!  My heart is heavy, but only because we were gifted with so much love.  Tears of thankfulness, not sorrow. 

Until we meet again, Dearest Westley.

This is linked with Sky Love Poetry's "Skylover Wordlist" ( I used three words: Golden, Farewell, Medicine) which can be found on Instagram  and "Poets & Storytellers United - Weekly Scribblings #30" (I used three words Poetry, Punctuation, Rhythm)

I've been absent for quite a while - busy with family and just got back from vacation to the Outer Banks of North Carolina.  I hope to be back in the writing grove now and I have missed all my fellow poets!   I look forward to visiting and commenting.  

The Overlook

The Overlook

Spring trees are rowdy, elbow each other below 

as I sink into the terrain before me, 

ravine full of wordy beech, birch, and buckeye.

Tulip tree steals the scene, her full dowry

on display, trillium's satin white sprinkled beneath.

I might be a bit naive, but I listen to their spirited stories,

spruce-fir whispering his tall tale from a distance

and believe every word as it sinks into my skin;

breathe deeply and settle myself.

Just before pink's onset and the subtle change 

of yellow to gold, I watch the hand of God 

brush over the bluest of skies with the rosiest silvered glaze

and reset the scene.  

I'm still no saint and this is no Garden of Eden, 

but all have become silent; even black-capped chickadees 

have stopped their sorties as I lean back upon outcropped stone.  

I know it's late, but I'm lulled by the Master's touch,

stream's serenade, and the hint of a thousand nightlights

beginning to twinkle above my head. 

by Margaret Bednar, May 28, 2020

This is linked with the fabulous "Poets and Storytellers United - Weekly Scribblings #21 - Anagrams" I used the following:  below/elbow, dowry/rowdy/wordy, ravine/naive, sink/skin, listen/silent, trees/reset, satin/saint, rosiest/sorties/stories, subtle/bluest, late/tale, stone/onset, masters/streams.

I have been absent from writing poetry for almost 2 months.  We have a house full because of this pandemic.  I am thankful I am able to help my oldest children out and have them and their spouses/significant others stay with us for a while.  They hailed from NYC and San Francisco.  I also was homeschooling my youngest son and my high school daughter is on autopilot - I just allow her to do her thing.    Summer has finally begun for me, school is out and the older ones are going back to their places in a few days.  

So, I'm back and I have missed everyone.  I can't wait to read your poetry.  (and thank you, Jim, for checking up on me)