Thursday, November 16, 2017

The Lake Path

Art by Ann Byrd - her website HERE
The Lake Path

I adore Lake's morning coolness upon my cheeks,
sometimes accompanied with a tear or two -
hopefully mistaken as a Mountain's morning mist;
its freshness soothes, nourishes as I pray -
look skyward as clouds contort into shapes imagined.

If I walk this circular path at noon,
Sun often lulls me into laziness, rests upon my shoulders
urges me to settle and observe a pair of swans,
ducks, geese, and dragonflies darting water's edge
whose fragile wings lift upon the slightest breeze -

reminds me I'm not in control
no matter how well laid my plans.

In the evening, greens fade to grey,
songbirds nestle into silence, and I gather strength
as twilight ribbons its way about pines and oaks
and Moon begins bestowing blessings
with a wink to those who seek.

by Margaret Bednar, November 15, 2017


This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads -  Bits of Inspiration - Dragonfly"  Its been a couple of weeks since I've had a chance to take time to write a poem - to take much time for myself - realized I hadn't even been getting outside much - not exercising, not taking time for myself.  I truly think that isn't healthy - so I've simplified a few things and hope I've found a balance...


Thursday, October 26, 2017

Rusty


Rusty

It was always a pleasure seeing the world
between his expressively curved ears
displaying a steadiness, an inquisitiveness,
a thankfulness for leaving the arena,
the endless circling around.

A curved path excited him,
the rustle of leaves, even the squirrels
seemed to delight.  He didn't mind
venturing out alone with me.  I'd sing,
he'd clip clop along non-judgmental.

He was half Arabian -
could go for hours without tiring.
I'd get lost daydreaming -
he'd take advantage; snag a leaf or two.

We'd often arrive home just before dark.
Bathed in barn light,
I'd scratch the whorl beneath his forelock,
lean into his neck as he tucked into his grain,
fresh straw fluffy beneath our feet.

by Margaret Bednar, October 26, 2017


This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Artistic Interpretations".   The moment I saw this painting it made me think of my horseback rides on my childhood horse, Rusty.  Even now I recall his eagerness and excitement to see what was around the bend - He was a good horse - He was never barn sour nor did he mind going out alone with no other horses; many horses are spooky and can't be trusted.   My favorite time to ride is in the fall when the forest starts to open up and rays of light hit the trails and one can see through the trees a bit - makes it less scary for a horse too.