Thursday, March 29, 2012

Back to the Future

A Flash 55....














I live in the shadow of giants,
modern prehistoric birds;
blue whales flying overhead.

At night, we watch otherworldly 
lights dance on the horizon; 
the birds are aloft, their eyes 
glowing in the dark.

Frequently flying off to distant lands
to disgorge stomach contents;
our ground vibrates as they return 
home to roost once more.

©  Ginny Brannan March 2012

Shared with Mr. Know-It-All Friday Flash 55--a story or poem in 55 words.
 **************************************************************
Our town lies in the flight path of Westover Air Reserve Base, home to the C5 Galaxy transport. These flying “whales” can swallow more than 270 Jonahs (plus flight crew), or 6 transcontinental buses, 2 Abrams tanks, 36 cargo pallets (10,000 lb. capacity),  or 7 UH1 copters. More info at:
 http://www.theaviationzone.com/factsheets/c5.asp

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Ponderings…

We are only as good as our last poem--
the last words we wrote,
the last words we spoke
Would that we were all struck
deaf, blind and mute…
Would we still hear
the magic of birdsong in our heads,
imagine those purple-pink sunrises,
the colors of the rainbow,
the golden sunsets on still waters?
With no sight to read, hearing to
hear or voice to speak,
would words still form and
dance in our minds, seeking
outlet, seeking discovery?
The birds don’t stop singing,
nor does nature disappoint.
It is men who choose what
to block out, what to embrace;
and poets who paint with their
words, offering their voice
to those who can still open
their eyes, their ears, their hearts
to the beauty surrounding them.

© Ginny Brannan  March 2012

Galway Bay, Ireland 2006
Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #37

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Last Laughs --Limericks!!

Written for d'Verse Poets Form For All--How to Write a Limerick hosted by Madeline Begun Kane


His “friends” said he needed to diet
they all thought his weight was a riot
now he weighs less than half
yes, he’s had the last laugh
and those sniggering friends are all quiet!











She often ate baked beans with dinner
believing they’d help her get thinner
when later she’d pass
all kinds of  gas
she'd say better let out than kept in her!










Writing with some hesitation
while seeking the right inspiration
he often incurred
too many words
chalking them up to inflation!












©  Ginny Brannan March 2012

The rhythm may be less than perfect, but they were a lot of fun to write!

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Mud Season

Image by: Ilder Sagdejev













It’s that season again…

temperatures start to rise,
wheels spin in their tracks,
ruts appear, machinery clogs
as watered-down dirt
surrounds and inundates us.
Without significant leverage,
things stall where they sit.

The stench of manure and 
decay, once disguised under 
illusion of purity,  reappears 
to burn airways, gagging and 
choking all within range. 

Yeah, the climate is changing…
so get your boots on, and
for god’s sake, tread lightly,
lest you get sucked in.

Mud season is upon us...
            let the slinging begin.

© Ginny Brannan March 2012


"Machinery clogs..."











*First Image: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2003-11-27_Northerner_boots_in_mud.jpg Used with expressed permission.
Second Image by Parke Harrison, courtesy-The Mag
*Sharing at "The Mag" #109 
     and
**d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night Week 36

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

On country roads…

Bright
yellow daffodils
poke their heads
through hardpack soil,
clinging together in clumps
along roads and pathways
and into meadows and woodlands.

I welcome these harbingers of spring
that lift the gray mood
of winter passed
with the promise
of warmer days
to come.

© Ginny Brannan April 2011
Photo: http://www.mooseyscountrygarden.com/willow-tree-garden/daffodils-tree-stump.html
















Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night 3/06/12

Sunday, March 4, 2012

"Anna Marie"

Image by Sarolta Ban 










Old-fashioned rouged cheeks, 
a touch of lipstick on your lips,
fire engine red to match the
personality smoldering beneath;
and those  eyes--eyes sparked 
by ten-thousand memories …

You must’ve been something
in your day, a rare commodity,
a trendsetter ahead of your time.

Sacrificing love for career…
how many men tossed,
how many hearts lost
to those red lips and those
beautiful, savvy, lonely eyes?

© Ginny Brannan March 2011
Sharing at "The Mag" 107, image courtesy Tess Kincaid (she provides the image, we provide the story!)

One of my "Tales from the Inside." I work with the elderly and this is about one of them. At 96 she still wears red lipstick, using it also to "rouge" her cheeks much like my aunts used to do years ago.