Monday, April 7, 2014


Photo by Kelsey Hannah

The veil recedes as in a dream…
in shadowed corners once concealed
now by soft rays of light, revealed.

They skip and soar within the stream,
exposed uncloaked—these faerie folk
dance with delight upon the beam.

In sunlight now, their world unsealed;
till veil recaptures to the dream.

© Ginny Brannan 2014

 Written for Magpie Tales #214  
Image provided by Tess Kincaid, she provides the image, we the story!

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Five a.m. on an April Morning

I stare across this mid-night sea
and ponder in that stillness found
the vastness of this vernal plain;
appearing first as ebony
and yet I know it isn’t so…
A hundred billion stars abound—
celestial embers in the dark
whose gasses burned out long ago,
and still they manage to astound.
Left humbled by their reverie,
as if by watching they’ll impart
the knowledge of the centuries…
Yet could we grasp enlightenment
from moment genesis embarked?
More learned men may share insight,
I myself embrace the night

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Daft Poetic Fools

Some call us daft, poetic fools;
Monets who use their words to paint—
inspired by some inner voice
known to stretch and bend the rules
in search of perfect turn of phrase.

We don’t abide much with restraint—
we walk to different drummer’s beat;
Plath and Poe and Frost and Keats…
we read their poems to reacquaint,
then hold our own course once again.

Sometimes the words call in our sleep;
we wake and run to fast transpose
our thoughts, lest they should slip away...
left often feeling incomplete
with need to find that perfect line.

How different then, this path we chose…
exposing all our truths and scars,
yet something from the depths took hold—
an inner voice held in repose,
an entity that lives inside—

we must conclude now, insofar,
this choice to write was never ours…

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Image by author

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Coming Home

They skim across the barren gray-cast sky,
these avians returning to their home—
a hundred count amassed in broken vee,
no risk of snow to hurry them along.

Sporadic now the calls heard overhead—
without the urgent threat of winter storm,
as instinct draws them northward-bound again
to nest once more, to find their breeding ground.

Another sign of warmer days to come
this ritual predating dawn of man…
we watch as silhouettes fade out of sight
content in knowing springtime has begun.

© Ginny Brannan 2014
Read here of their  "Southbound" plight!

Inspired by Meeting the Bar: Rhythm and Blank Verse, shared by Tony Maude. Written too late to share there. Sharing today at dVerse Open Link Night!

Wednesday, March 26, 2014


Repainted: 2014 Boston Marathon Finish line.

The colors of the day were blue and yellow—
like golden sun adrift in azure sky;
and those along the route could hear the ‘thunder’
as 35,000 tempoed feet clocked by.

The crowd held sway observing all the runners;
an audience a half a million strong—
till day morphed into night-mare unexpected
when shrapnel-filled explosives ripped the throng.

The color of the day turned red and running,
scarlet dripping on a field of gray—
with unsung heroes bounding to the rescue
—yellow shirts and white hat led the way.

It’s been a year since chaos tore the city
with imagery to last a lifetime long—
like phoenix, runners rise up from the ashes
reminding us to all be “Boston Strong”

© Ginny Brannan March 2014

2013 Image. Rescuing injured after bombs exploded.

 3/25/14 News Boston shared that the marathon finish line had just been repainted in preparation for the 118th marathon to be held on April 21st.  

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Afternoon Repose

Image: Heather Grace Stewart

While others may prefer room’s core—
encircled chairs set  ‘round the fire,
enrapt in conversations' flow;
I pursue my own desire…

I single out the corner seat,
—as outlaws once chose carefully,
to watch the door instinctively—
then choose a book, no dust disturbed
and disappear inside each word.

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Coming in late, story of my life! This is inspired by a post shared by my friend Joe at A Thing for Words. Found that it was prompted by Heather Grace Stewart for Take Ten Thursday, and this image she shared. Loved the image, hope they don't mind me sharing my "take!"

Thursday, March 20, 2014

What Goes Around…

Image: H. Kopp-Delaney

There is no going “gently” into the night
regardless what you think, maybe in spite;
first comes the loss of all you had and who you are—
favored treasures, then the home, and then your car.

This role-reversal somehow doesn’t seem quite right—
grown children argue with frustration through the night.
Undecided what to do now that you’re ‘old,’
yet all agree you won’t be left out in the cold.

They understand the care you need is specialized:
your memory’s fading; so’s your hearing and your eyes.
On top of that you can’t get out of bed at night;
the list of meds you take is too long to recite.

In-fighting really is the saddest thing to see
to observe when adult-children disagree
through selfish needs they’re losing track of parent’s plight;
they forget their turn will come to "face the night."

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Inspired by two adult-children of a nonagenarian I know. Neither wants to step up and be in charge of parent's mail, so they left a basket in parent's room for whomever decides to go through first.

A little exercise to put aging into perspective:

Write down 10 things that really mean something to you: 
i.e. spouse, children, grandkids, pets, traveling, reading, writing, movies, etc. Whatever you feel is important to you.
Now take away two. Okay, not bad right, two you can live without, right?
Now take away three. Getting harder isn't it? What's left--spouse, children, grandkids family friends?
Now take away three more. Getting even tougher isn't it?
Left with two, pick one more to lose, leaving one. This is really tough when choosing between two that you really love. I had to "choose" between husband and son. How do you do that?!!

This really hit home with me on what happens as we age and lose everything we love, everything that we were. Thought I'd share and leave you with some food for thought too.