Wednesday, October 11, 2017


Can be purchased on Etsy HERE

I envy you your tears,
your breaking heart
as he slips away

for it means you have loved
and been loved -

where I feel a bit lost
as what I've sought
will never be.

Wake up at night
knowing part of me
is broken.

Thank God it's small enough
to tuck away out of sight

most of the time.

by Margaret Bednar, October 12, 2017

linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's - Music with Marian".   The video is very sad - and this may not address it exactly but I think the sense of loneliness and heartbreak is true to the song...

I've been absent a few weeks - busy with being a mom and juggling kids - which is fantastic - not complaining there - but my Father has taken a turn for the worse - his stroke has affected more than just his speech - and it seems like time has run out for many things...   I'm not looking for sympathy - I've come to terms with feelings a long time ago - just sad as things could have been so much different.  Thank God my girls have a father that has helped form them into talented, confident, and kind young women.

In a quilting class today a woman shared her struggle as caretaker of her aging father - he's slipping and she fears he will die soon.  She was very tearful and I actually found myself a bit envious as I really don't have any tears - just a sense of loss of what could have been...

I seldom write poetry about this subject as I fear hurting my mother's feelings if she were to ever find her way here - which she won't - she doesn't log on to any computer ever (she's 90) - I feel guilty - like I'm betraying ... something.

Monday, September 25, 2017



Caramel drizzled apples, wood stacked.
Leaves spiral down, crimson tipped,
heralding "Soon, soon"...

I fickly proclaim Autumn "my favorite",
weary of heat-drenched days.

Beneath kitchen window
fawn's still speckled, buck's alters fuzzy.

Just a pane of glass divides
sweet green grass and pumpkin-spice pie.

by Margaret Bednar, revised September 25, 2017

This is for "dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #41" a poem in 44 words & this week use the word "spice". I revised an old poem, edited it and added the word spice.   I like it better this way.   The deer were under my kitchen window and I was making apple pie - but I have exercised artistic license :)