Sunday, December 30, 2012

The Mag #145, Friday Flash 55, & Barn Charm "Fifteen Cents"

Fifteen Cents

Snakes, goliath hornworms
hidden amidst nightshade,

summer heat, rain,
palm rolled tar balls,

colored spirituals, Pepsi,
Moon Pies, bone-weary.

Loose leaves bundled,
looped, fastened snug,
rafters dripping
a southern delicacy,

gorged, steaming barns,
four to five days, green
to golden bright.

Pinched, spread, rolled,
sealed, inhaled deeply,

just fifteen cents a pack
back in 1938.

by Margaret Bednar, December 30, 2012

North Carolina's old tobacco barns - curing or pack house barns - can be seen dotting old fields, a lucky few restored, old tobacco fields now sprouting residential developments or weed-ridden.   

Here is a sweet photo I found of a little girl "looping" (stringing) tobacco.

This is linked with "The Mag" #149.  The photo prompt for the week (provided by Tess) is below:

Photo courtesy of R.A.D. Stainforth
I will also link this with Friday Flash 55  and Barn Charm (back Jan 7th)

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Poetry Jam "A December Night's Walk" Friday Flash 55 "Beloved"

The Friday Flash 55 version is at the bottom - It is always so hard to edit one's words...
which do YOU like better?

A December Night's Walk

I step out
into the cimmerian night,
utter a protest against the chill,

walk dogs one last time
before turning in, glad
Christmas's rush is over,

listen to the pond's silence,
pause as I feel very small,
pupils wide,

as pinpoints
of luminous light
reflect symbolic vision;

a tree of paradise,
a tree of hope, needles
pointing heavenward

and a stag
thirsting for water
like my soul yearns for Christ.

My breath expels,
a tear escapes,
and I thank the starless sky

for her beauteous gift
of making one so small
feel so simply and happily loved.

by Margaret Bednar, December 27, 2012

This is linked with Poetry Jam - "Ho Ho Holidays"

and below, a shorter, 55 word version, linked with Friday Flash 55.


I embrace
a cimmerian night,

feel alone
beneath starless sky,

listen to the pond's
chilly silence,

pause, pupils wide,
as pinpoints of luminous light

reflect a tree of hope,
needles pointing heavenward

and a stag thirsting for water
like I yearn for Christ;

breath expels,
a tear escapes

and I, so small,
feel simply loved.

by Margaret Bednar, December 27, 2012

Monday, December 24, 2012

Peace, Hope, and Joy to my blogging friends

We had to do "boy/girl" photos this year as we have been battling strep throat (me), flu, and terrible colds.  I do believe we will all be better by the 25th.  I'm also convinced the boys had an added incentive - they didn't want to get dressed up.  It was all I could do to keep them from wearing baseball hats!  

But, the silver lining for me in having to be bedridden is I am almost caught up on DR. WHO!!  I am on target to finishing the 6th season in time to watch the Christmas Special!  Are there any other BBCA fans out there?... I SO love this show.  It takes about half way through the first season to become addicted... but believe me, you DO!  

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Season's Greetings... to all my blog friends.  Truly, you inspire me and I have learned and enjoyed so much by "meeting" all of you.  This world of blogging it truly amazing, don't you agree?  If my friends and family had to put up with my attempts at almost daily poetry, I would have long ago been locked in my room.  Thank you for saving me from that fate ;)

I wish we all could be sitting around a fire, enjoying my daughter's gourmet cookies (not mine, I don't bake desserts) and a cup of hot chocolate (or spiced wine).

From my family to yours, I truly wish each and every one Peace, Hope, and Joy for the upcoming New Year 2013!

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Friday Flash 55, "Feline Madness"

Feline Madness

I sense before I see,
beneath boughs
of this year's Christmas tree,
glowing eyes
seemingly stalk ghosts
of time past,
look through me
with intensity barbarous,
and I with red ribbon in hand,
decide feline portraits will wait
'til wild beasts repent wicked ways,
their ancient spirits soothed 
with a bowl of warm milk.

by Margaret  Bednar, December 19, 2012

I can't remember a Christmas without a cat.  Casper was by dear companion throughout my childhood and early marriage.  The image above is of Casper and me, Christmas 1982, my senior year of high school.

This will be linked with Friday Flash 55 - (link up Thursday after 8pm).

Below are the two cats I have now.  I just read that evergreen's can be toxic to cats!  We've had a live Christmas tree for years!  I don't buy Poinsettias anymore as they're supposedly toxic as well.  So far my cats don't see to be nibbling on the tree and I am keeping the area vacuumed.

We are celebrating our Christmas Saturday, December 22, due to work schedules. All six children are home and that is really all I want/need for Christmas.

My dear blogging pals, I wish each and every one of you love and peace this Christmas.   Happy Holidays.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

IGWRT's Sunday Mini-Challenge, Doll's Revisited "Nowhere to Turn"

Nowhere to Turn

Black-hole pupils
swallow irises, blue,
terrify.  Super-mom's cape
lies crumpled in a corner
no longer able to soothe,
save, protect;

her son's tone increasingly
belligerent.  She fears the moment,
(it always comes) when calculated
rage shakes loose, consumes.

Hugs him closely as he kicks
and screams "I'll get my revenge".

Mental illness ravages her son.
Help might arrive if a crime he commits,
until then a 13 year old boy's family
has nowhere to turn.

by Margaret Bednar, December 16, 2012

This is for Imaginary Garden With Real Toad's, Sunday Mini-Challenge "Doll's Revisited".

I, along with most of you, are devastated with what happened in a Connecticut elementary school a few days ago.  HERE.  I am particularly moved by a father's response that he isn't angry at the killer.  The killer practiced free will and chose evil, the father will choose love.

I paraphrased that, but this sentiment, uttered by a man who is grieving for his five year old daughter's murder is truly heroic.  I was going to write a poem about this, but came across the following article.  I think it needs to be read and circulated.  My poem above isn't really my own as I borrowed a few lines from the author of the article I have linked below.

"I Am Adam Lanza's Mother".

Saturday, December 15, 2012

IGWRT's Sunday Mini-Challenge - Doll's Revisitied "Nurture"


Insecurities need a place to hide
in order to breathe, time to nuzzle
upon the breast, content,

baby step towards confidence.
A place where Brothers Grimm
are balanced with Mother Goose,

a nest where feathers soothe tremblings
and one learns falling is about rising
and true fear results from giving up.

Margaret Bednar, December 15, 2012

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sunday Mini-Challenge "Dolls Revisited".  

IGWRT's Sunday Mini-Challenge - Dolls Revisited "Becoming"


I fell for a boy
wearing an octopus tattoo

became hypnotized
by the way 
he moved his ink,

forlorn when he 
chose another,
said I was shallow.

Self pity nor sainthood's 
for me.  Took it upon myself
to become what I love;

I wear it better, anyway.

by Margaret Bednar, December 15, 2012

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's Sunday Mini-Challenge, Dolls Revisited.  

IGWRT's Sunday Mini Challenge - Dolls Revisited "The Shaping of Me"

The Shaping of Me

I'm drifting, undulating as life's waves
cleanse or erode, unsure which;

concentrate upon survival,
the tidewrack of introspection

reserved for the questionable future.
For now, I just hang on, vulnerable.

by Margaret Bednar, December 15, 2012

This is for Imaginary Garden of Real Toad's Sunday Mini-Challenge - Dolls Revisited.  A number dolls hand stitched, created by my daughter's high school Visual Art's class last year.  

IGWRT's Transforming Friday's - "North American Bison"

North American Bison

Thunder once rolled
upon the plains,
beneath a cloudless sky;

stilled by something
instinct couldn't understand.

Margaret Bednar, December 15, 2012

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's" - Transforming Friday's with Hannah.  This is the fifth challenge in a beautiful series!

Thursday, December 13, 2012

IGWRT's & Friday Flash 55 "Ingrained"


Our elbows, knees
crammed eight in a van
from  Charleston
to Northern Michigan,
with a stop in New York,
boy farts, smelly socks
(just to torture his sisters)
happy hearts, non-the-less,
voices singing in unison


as we drive by
a burnt out shell,
pillows, toys,

paper drawings
enjoying summer's breeze.

by Margaret Bednar, December 13, 2012

I almost didn't write about this calamiti - this indelible image that lives in my mind.  I think this is the first post I have ever done without a photo.

There were two car seats in a van just like ours - numerous pillows, binders, books, Disney tapes scattered all over the ditch and grass, papers blowing (Crayola & loose leaf) swirling on the road as the traffic drove through them.  I remember thinking the papers looked like they were dancing and swirling when everything else looked so forlorn.  Police, ambulance, long gone, the scene eerily quiet.

I am sorry for such a sad post so near the holidays (blame Fireblossom:) but it does remind us to hug our loved ones, enjoy today, enjoy now... Live!

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's - Fireblossom Friday (Wednesday) "Calamities".

This is also for Friday Flash 55

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

The Mag #147, "The Lover"

The Lover

Like parchment,
ink stained,
my skin
absorbs your mark,
becomes branded
with wanderlust,
seeks no boundaries,
offers no resistance,
as you traverse
and trace contours,
elevating this journey
of adventurous passion
to blissful heights.

by Margaret Bednar, December 11, 2012

This is for The Mag #147.  Check out other peoples "map" poems.

Barn Charm #115 "Jilted"


December slants
her golden gaze,
heavy upon somnolent fields,
mumbling a promise
of steadfastness.

My tarnished heart
enjoys her fickle affection,
knowing full well
she'll soon be lured
by another's desire
further south,

leaving me to endure
January's loveless embrace,
her westerly wind caressing
with long frigid fingers.

by Margaret Bednar, 12-3-2012

This is for Barn Charm #115.

IGWRT's - Ink Stained Word List "Gypsy Herb"

Gypsy Herb

as from kitchen garden,
sedentary, you fled

a chthonic fate
of chopped and diced
upon linoleum.

Scattered gypsy-like
to roam 'cross field
and meadow,

wildly nomadic,
you slumber 'neath alabaster
and periwinkle sky,

bedazzle orangey butterflies
with promise of
idyllic, endless peace.

Charmed, I breath in patience,
your magical bohemian spell
ubiquitously fragrant;

a bit of serendipity I share
as arms and wings
in perfect synchronicity

spread toward sacred,
become sisters, rejoice
in your voice of hopeful silence.

by Margaret Bednar, December 11, 2012

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads "An Ink-Stained Word List".  There were 30 favorite words shared by poets a few days ago and I used 21 of them, including the bonus word "chthonic".  

Sunday, December 9, 2012

IGWRT's Sunday Mini-Challenge "Elopement"

©  Daryl Edelstein

Most women dream
of a dress alabaster pure,
trumpet shaped Calla lilies,
Pachelbel's Canon in D,
rainbow confetti,
and a prince with which
to live happily ever after.

I dreamt of alabaster legs
covered in sand,
toes rendezvous red,
yellow string bikini,
Emerald Martinis
and a man with which
to paint the town.

We've never regretted it.

by Margaret Bednar, December 9, 2012

This is for Imaginary Garden of Real Toad's "Sunday Mini-Challenge".  Photography prompts are courtesy of Daryl Edelstein.  Her photographs of New York are wonderful!

I had a wedding, not like the one described, but if I could rewind the clock 23 years...

Friday, December 7, 2012

IGWRT Words Count with Mama Zen - "Santa"


I've always tried
to be less naughty
more nice,

finish prayers
before asleep I fall,

hold my tongue
knowing I'm right.

So before you check
twice your list

please ponder
the above.

It also wouldn't hurt
to consider

you've never had
a rival

and that I'm feeling
quite entrepreneurial.

by Margaret Bednar,  Dec 7, 2012

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads -  Words count with Mama Zen.  The challenge is to write a letter to Santa in 50 words or less.  

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Friday Flash 55 & Friday Fences "Hungry Like a Wolf"

Hungry like a Wolf

Tethered emotions
struggle for freedom
as I, mesmerized
by your wiggle
hunger to take the plunge, 
risk drowning
for your taste 
upon my tongue.

Don't be prudish.
Throw me a life-line
even if it means 
loosing your head.  
Break the rules;
my reputation as a wolf
is heresay.  Trust me,
darling, I'll be gentle.

by Margaret Bednar, Dec-6-2012

This is for Friday Flash 55 - (supposedly) a non-fiction story in 55 words, no more, no less.  I am also linked with Friday Fences #61.

I have been nursing our dog, Moxie, for the past few days.  Back & forth to the vet ER and bringing my daughter back and forth from school has me a bit behind on visiting blogs.  But I will be backtracking and catching up soon.

My daughter brought her home almost nine years ago and their bond is very tight, very special - this devotion is what has ME in tears.  She has rebounded and is stable.  There is hope.  Her liver numbers were off the charts and they think she has pancreatitis.  The liver is very regenerative and the pancreas can be maintained sometimes.  Time will tell.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

IGWRT's - Ella's Post - Oliver Twist "Guess Who?"


I pause upon the sidewalk
admire a Norman Rockwell framed with
flowering dogwood, coralbells, blooming vegetable garden
(that is, if he'd painted house portraits)

my eyes search for
brush strokes of Van Gogh
depicting a spirit, bold
(a perfect blend of charm meets warped)

Gladly sink my feet
upon her canvas, find it complete
with childish laughter
(and a hamster upon the sill)

Tail wagging greets me
ever-painting at a frenzied pace
a scene blissfully domestic
(not a thing out of place)

as baby puppy, all cuteness and charm
leads me to a cozy corner chair
beside a crackling Alizarin fire
(and tales, shelf-lined)

I expected pithy rantings (mixed with sarcasm)
and direct reviews; find the hostess
to be warm, witty, and surprisingly rather long winded!
(lesson: never judge a book by its cover)

by Margaret Bednar,  12-5-2012

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's - Ella's Post "Oliver Twist".   We were to write in the style of Charles Dickens (failed terribly) and describe a fellow "toad" of our garden!  Well, you let me know if you know who this is!  :)

Monday, December 3, 2012

IGWRT's Sunday Mini-Challenge, "Moxie"


My daughter's heart stolen
by a bit of fluff carried home;
all tongue and puppy ears, chosen
this cuddlesome
pooch, by a small girl, now a young woman.

Her tender heart breaking
to see her companion in pain
by her side, 'tis no mistaking
she will maintain
hugs, kisses, worry, and lots of waiting.

by Margaret Bednar  12-3-2012

This is for IGWRT's "Sunday Mini-Challenge - Rossetti" We are using a format used by poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti.   It is hard for me NOT to be cheesy when being restricted to rhyme and syllable count... Yes, I'm a lazy poetess.

We had to take our 8 year old dog, Moxie, to the vet this weekend.  Hours AND hours later (not to mention $), we find she has pancreatitis and she is still in the doggie ER.  UGH.   it is so hard for me to watch my daughter grieve so...

Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Mag #146, "Smitten"

"Object to be Destroyed" by Man Ray


I appear
the consummate player,

never letting on
I'm counting

the seconds, minutes,
hours, since you left,

our tempo still sweet
upon my tongue.

I remain silent, as this
would render me pathetic.

by Margaret Bednar,  12-02-2012

For The Mag #146.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Friday Fences, "Forbidden"


For little boys

temptation is the rule,
not the exception.

Locked? Well then,
up and over...

"Come on, Mom,
you can do it!"

As if that is why I said "No."

Margaret Bednar, 11-30-2012

This is for Friday Fences #60.

IGWRT's Mary's Mixed Bag "Letting Go"

Letting Go

Yesterday and tomorrow
are acquainted with today,

where youth stands
with feet firmly planted

watching destiny gallop forward,
apathetic of bygone days;

and I, aged and wise,
watch yesterday's ripples
interplay about my feet,

realize how unpredictable,
dreams can be.

My hand grasps her wrist
warning of my fears,

but she, entranced with the sunrise
doesn't turn toward me,
resists the connection,

and I let go,
as all mothers must.

by Margaret Bednar 12-30-2012

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's "Mary's Mixed Bag - Connection".  I will be back tonight to read and enjoy visiting all of your  poems and posts!  I'm a bit behind - these kids are keeping me hopping (wish I could say young).

dVerse Poet's Pub "Child-Like Faith" (text from Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy)

Erasure Poem & Artwork by Margaret Bednar
Child-Like Faith

Divinity is the law of right and wrong
come into the world by revelation

which I am made one with other men,
one body of believers:

The Church.

Jews, Mohammedans, Confucians,
Buddhists? What of them?

Can men be deprived of God?

The movement of stars,
the rotation of earth,
complicated and marvelous!
Unattainable by reason.

I intently face starlight.

As a Christian,
vain and uncertain,
my soul questions...

I have no right to decide!

all of a sudden, like a child,
faith has taken root,
and I, 
still unable to understand,


by Margaret Bednar, 11-29-2012

This is an Erasure Poem, text from the novel "Anna Karenina", by Leo Tolstoy for dVerse Poet's Pub.  For details click on the link, but for a shortened explanation: Erase words until you get a poem.  It is much harder than it looks.

I will be around on Friday to read all the posts to this challenge.

I'm not sure mine even says what I had hoped .... but so much evil is done in the name of religion.  I say, leave it up to God to judge and decide.  I'm even tired of evangelists... just LIVE your faith and that should be enough - DON'T come knocking at my door.  If someone asks me about it, of course, I'll share. But enough hatred, enough with intolerance for those of differing faiths.

On another note, I am so excited to see the movie Anna Karenina.  I've already seen Skyfall and Lincoln, and I also have The Hobbit and Les Miserables to look forward to!  

I haven't read any reviews... but these "Russians" sound quite English to me!  :)  

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Poet's United - Wonder Wednesday "Detour"


I'm not on that bridge
the one I'm driving under;

where does it lead,
what is there to see?

I follow the paved
double yellow dutifully,

wondering if the other
meanders through a scenic route

of farms, trails, historic homes,
perhaps a few grand mountain views;

decide to cutback, detour,
look down upon where I have been,

full of excitement for what lies ahead
as my children lament,

"Here she goes again!"

by Margaret Bednar, 11-28-2012

This is for Poet's United - Wonder Wednesday #11 Bridge.

Further proof we should wander off the planned path now and again ...

IGWRT's Wednesday Challenge "Susan"

Would you like to hear me read this poem:

Check this out on Chirbit


I have long admired
deep cherry red

roses.  Foliage blooming
with life, like your

eyes.  I reach out to
run a finger along youthful

cheek.  But, some things
must be carressed with the

heart.  I gaze upon precious
faded images, make a

vow.  Despite early pruning by
Master Gardener, you'll forever grace my

life.  Artistry from one held dear,
will inspire, will be remembered.

by Margaret Bednar, 11-28-2012

I was about one and a half when my sister died, just shy of nine.  I wish with all my heart I could remember her, but I don't.  However, I have always felt a very strong pull towards her images in the photographs my parents took of her, their first born.  I was told when she came home from the hospital, she always went straight towards my room, to see me, the baby sister she so loved.

She was an artist, I have a few of her drawings, her creations of paper doll clothes, etc.  My first daughter's middle name is Susan - and she is the one who is so artistically gifted; I can't help but think Susan is smiling down from heaven, her spirit still painting.

Below is some of her art she did while in the hospital.  I feel so blessed to have it.

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's - Wednesday Challenge "Personal Relationship" inspired by the poetry of Ingrid Jonker.

and a school project my oldest daughter did years ago.  I was truly amazed, as I hadn't showed her Susan's paper doll clothes at the time:

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Poetry Jam & IGWRT's "Atlantis"

drawing by Bailey Powell
doll by Bailey Powell

Ancient paintings 
and seafaring Greeks
sighted strange creatures 
upon sun dappled rocks.

Medieval manuscripts, 
even Columbus and Hudson, 
told tales banished now to myth

of pale speckled bellies, 
dark blue backs, glowing,
and tails of polished sea glass.

Where now, these creatures
who swam with dolphins
and sang with humpbacks
of the pacific northwest?

Perhaps their kingdom's a city
lost to us, a place we call "myth";

a god's mountain palace
carved for his love,
surrounded by gates,
towers, bridges and moats,

a place the Pillars of Hercules
watched silently slip
into a realm unknown,

followed by every mermaid
and merman pledging allegiance 
to Poseidon and Amphitrite.

Atlantis!  A new civilization
cradled deep inside the Mystic Sea
safe from their predator; mankind.

by Margaret Bednar, 11-27-2012

doll by Bailey Powell
This is for Poetry Jam "make believe"and Imaginary Garden With Real Toad's Sunday Challenge "dolls".  The dolls (this being one of many) have been created by talented high school visual art students.

I watched a video from Animal Planet on mermaids "The Body Found" which is rather interesting and fun. Also, here is an image and information on the Pillars of Hercules.

Monday, November 26, 2012

The Mag #145 "Timeworn"

Photo Source HERE

Sultry crimson is pulled, coaxed,
dragged about shapely curves

as I know red is
your favorite color.

I wore one like this
years ago...

"Plunging and dangerous"
you whispered in my ear.

I'd giggled, smitten.
Now, I raise my cabernet

as you appear dazzled
by "Little Black" across the room

find myself alone, fading,

by Margaret Bednar, 11-26-2012

This is for The Mag #145 - a photo prompt each week to get our creative juices flowing.

This will also be linked to Mr. Know-it-All's "Flash Fiction Friday 55" on Thursday after 8pm (a FICTION story in 55 words... no more, no less).