Thursday, April 30, 2020

Best Foot Forward












For some it appears to be effortless
like breathing or blinking your eyes—
the words just form and fall into place…
–yet others, like me, still search nonetheless
to extricate perfect expression.

Devices and adages paint a disguise
where only the baptized might see,
the truth that is masked inside of our lies,
and whether each story is real or contrived,
in pursuit of our own evolution.

Did we rely, perhaps too heavily,
on abstract ideas or deflection?
Could you decipher the writer’s approach?
Did language and narrative flow fluently,
or did storyline lose its intention?

It really depends on the reader’s perception
just how they interpret the words,
and if they can feel what you’ve tried to reveal
and if so, give some vindication,
in this ultimate quest for redemption.

A writer shares stories with hope they’ll be heard,
that others will find a connection…
in each poem that’s shared,  there’s a piece of our truth,
and a glimpse of the pathways that we have incurred
in each word, a new revelation
on this journey to find our salvation.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo #28 I was shooting for 30, but this is a long one so maybe it counts for more! That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!!

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

A Proper Scolding












I listened as the robin
scolded me with his squawking: 
“Hey look, I’m over here, 
don’t go over there!”
I’m sure he and his mate 
are raising their brood
in the large rhododendron 
under my bedroom window.
Don’t you worry, little bird
I will keep my social distance.
And thank you for reminding me
that despite all the death 
we hear of each day,
life has returned to our yard
   …life goes on.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Spring Clean–Up











I tidied up the yard today
raking up the Autumn leaves;
along the fence where they had cleaved—

and from the garden where they strayed,
once hid below the winter snow
now damp and brown and in decay.

With work complete, I’ve found my peace
in tidying the yard today.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

#26 NaPoWriMo 2020

Monday, April 27, 2020

Remember, Safety First!










Without coffee my brain’s on five-second delay:
I see your lips moving, then hear what you say.
The mind is still dark, the shades are still drawn,
it’s best sipped in quiet so don’t make a sound.

And should you have something that you must convey?
Remember my brain’s on five-second delay—
speak softly and slowly so I understand,
or you’ll pay with retort or a sharp reprimand.

You think that it’s funny, this look on my face?
Before I’ve had caffeine, I’m really half-crazed!
While the brain may be set on five-second delay,
I’ll still plot your demise and how you’ll repay.

The first cup went down with barely a blink;
the second more slowly, I’m starting to think.
The clouds are dispersing, so you’ll be okay… 
without coffee my brain’s on five-second delay!


©Ginny Brannan 2020

Ah Coffee, nectar of the gods!!

#25 NaPoWriMo 2020

Saturday, April 25, 2020

Sharing Your Truth


















It’s out there every single day
for all the world to see
the creases and the smile lines
deep-etched in your skin
perhaps small remnants to remind
of pain you  held within.
All the scars and battle wounds
from every surgery;
the added complications
still show peripherally

The years we’ve had together
have not always been kind
your once thick hair no longer there
I take it as a sign…
For every scar and wrinkle
denotes another year
and if I have my ‘druthers
I’d rather you were here

So let them see the flaws and lines,
show them off with pride
share yourself out to the world
I know what’s inside—
How you’ve never given up
how you’ve come so far
inspiring those still struggling
by being who you are.

Through triumphs and the  trials
through faith and family
those hard earned scars are just a part
of all you are to me.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

#24 NaPoWriMo  Something I wrote in the past few months. A rather snapshot of someone I know who never gives up.

Friday, April 24, 2020

With Good "Intentions"












I had all good intentions of writing today
nothing was going to stop me…
then I had to take the car to the mechanic,
endeavor to do the weekly supermarket shopping.
Next the unplanned defrosting of the freezer,
to make room for the newer purchases.
If only there where more hours in the day
or perhaps if I were a bit more organized...
not that that is likely to happen anytime soon.
So now the day grows late, and any inspiration dissipates.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo #23 Day 24  My day in a nutshell...

Thursday, April 23, 2020

What Dreams May Come...
















In a world where nothing’s as it seems
a place where left is right and right is wrong,
and daylight plunges into night headlong,
—I search for sanctuary in my dreams.

The hours pass, my busy mind can’t rest;
the second hand advances in slow motion
and minute hand exacts its retribution
still sleep eludes; perhaps this is a test.

How did such existence come to be
where nightmares take the daylight hours to task,
the snakes no longer hiding in the grass,
there’s no rest found in our reality.

I pray exhaustion finally overtakes
please Morpheus, help me to escape.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

In Search of The Garden















I admire you your faith…
when all falls to hell around you,
you smile and you pray
as if all will go away.
I once believed, as you do,
that our petitions are heard
that all good comes to those who believe.
But if that is true, then why do the faithful suffer
with pain more than they can bear
while their prayers remain unanswered?
 They say ‘silence’ is an answer, too
Is this a fact, a convenient reply, or a lie of omission?
We whisper our pleas, broker our deals
and when they fail, we blame ourselves
   because God tests the unfaithful.
 Perhaps we just don’t trust enough
  —our failure ever since the Garden.
I have struggled with these questions all my life,
 the answer still remains elusive.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

…and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.
    —Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young

Monday, April 20, 2020

Perfectly Matched















They had a talent for the Cha-Cha
and a passion for the Waltz
a little bit of Fox Trot
and their Swing was something else;
tapping to the tempo, jivin’ to the beat,
to see the them Jitterbuggin’
was to witness something sweet.
Their Charleston was electric
their Samba was unmatched
when they broke out into Hip-Hop
all the others stopped to watch.
They were both unstoppable
and so hard to ignore,
like a moth takes to the flame
so they took the floor.
Their style was eclectic,
their footwork, animated;
their Boogaloo was boffo
their Tango was X-Rated!
Dance they could and dance they did
they had such rapport…
never once did stumble,
they always pushed for more.

To find the perfect partner
to lead us in the dance,
someone who’s attuned to us
and helps us to advance,
is like capturing a moving train
as it leaves the station;
but rarer still, the soulmate
who has perfect syncopation.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo #20

Thank you to Yvonne Brewer for the photo prompt. I had a little fun with this one!!

Sunday, April 19, 2020

At Sunrise...















In the waking hours, the silent streets
call forth the storied footsteps of our past,
on cobblestones now hidden by concrete.
Awakened now, our past on silent streets—
the wooden wheels, the clip-clop of hoof beats
the village square, the hub where folks amassed.
In these early hours, the silent streets
  call forth the storied footsteps of our past

© Ginny Brannan 2020












NaPoWriMo #19 Recalls my hometown in Vermont.

Image Credit: Anne Collins, Photographer. Used with expressed written permission. Originally shared on the site: Growing Up in Bellows Falls.

Second Image found in historical archives, of same building many years ago.

At Heaven's Gate
















We were inseparable, us three;
neighborhood kids, schoolmates,
playmates…friends.
Life moved forward around us
others came into our lives,
yet the bonds that held us never changed:
There are so many kinds of love:
the steamy passion between lovers,
the playful fondness of siblings,
the devotion deferred for parents and grandparents...
– and then there is that special affinity of the heart
reserved for those who walk our path, 
who uplift us, and remind us how we
are better because we’re in this together.
It never leaves us, this alliance, this kinship we share.
It bides silently,  awaiting the confluence
when the gate is opened,  the heavens smile,
and we are laughing together once again.

© Ginny Brannan 2020


NaPoWriMo #18   4/18/2020
In fond memory of my dearest forever friend on this, your 64th birthday.

Saturday, April 18, 2020

A Necessary Evil

















I braved going out to the supermarket today…
donning gloves and mask, dressed for the task.
In the ten days since my last food run, 
the taped lines by the check-outs, 
once in a straight line, have become six-by-six grids
front-to-back and side-to-side, proper social distancing.
They’ve also added taped “arrows” in each food aisle
to move everyone along in the same direction…which sadly 
went unseen by me until I was almost through,
and also explains the comment overheard
about "walking in the wrong direction.”
– De Niro's "You talkin' to me?" echoes in my headbut is left unspoken.
Perhaps someone needs to set the rules upon entering, 
but like all jobs these days, rules change not just day to day,
but hour-to-hour.  Who can keep up?
The bad news—for the store anyways, is that 
we are all “shopping with a purpose” these days,
in and out, no lingering or impulse buying.
The good news?  I set a new world record today:
—a week’s worth of shopping done in 20 minutes!

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo #17 Not exactly Poetry, just observations on food shopping during a pandemic.

A Snow Shower in April












Yellow forsythia blooms in my back yard,
the April rains have greened the lawn
calling forth buds on sleeping trees
yet winter lingers, not quite ready to cede defeat.
Soft snow falls gently outside my window
and clings to the budding cherry tree
the contrast is striking,  deep pink against crisp white.
It’s not something I have not witnessed before
but somehow, it feels different this year;
the gray skies have lingered far too long
but in the pristine purity of a Spring snow shower
I feel cleansed, renewed, nourished.
I am reminded that life continues
and I feel something akin to hope again

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Thursday, April 16, 2020

What We Carry Inside

It’s been nearly six decades since I knew this girl
I remember so little of what we shared then
but there were people that loved us
and all was right with our world.
Over the years, some disappeared, while others were found.
Each shaped the woman she’d turn out to be
each one retained, now part of me…
and the love still remains, 
 where it needs to be. 

© Ginny Brannan 2020


#15 NaPoWriMo There is much nostalgia that surrounds each holiday, Easter is no exception.Yes, I realize this is written in two different "voices" First Person and Abject, but when looking through the lens of the past, sometimes it just feels that way. Image from 1958 give or take a year.

Numb












The more together I try to keep it 
the further apart I become…
little things fall by the wayside
when you’re feeling numb.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

#14 NaPoWriMo   For a few days I have been typing away at ideas, and just  lost two of them on one document because I did not “save” it,  and now they’re gone.
So this is not what I planned to share, but how I feel at the moment.

The Dark Side

















If you are looking for someone who writes of butterflies 
and happy places, puppy dogs and children’s faces,
   that would not be me;
there are thorns in the garden concealed on the roses,
and wasps that are ready to sting...
The dark side stays hidden where truth is forbidden.
So speak to me of the overcast sky, the rain and the wind,
the heartache that’s never forgotten…
and don’t line me up to repent for your sins;
the face that I show you is not who I am,
you know naught the trials I’ve carried within
nor the dark, empty paths that I’ve trodden.

© Ginny Brannan 2020


Butterfly girl by Akaeya-Lovely at Deviant art

Monday, April 13, 2020

Gone, But Not Forgotten...














I loved the scent of your affections
and the sizzle of your heat,
I don’t need no sweet confections
your smoky taste leaves me complete;
Such a morning temptress, though anytime would do,
I don’t think that I could ever find
another that can take the place of you.

You were the cream inside my coffee
the sunlight on my windowpane,
your taste still lingers here upon my lips
but that’s all that remains…
Yes, I forgot to pick you up,
I was such a fool
now I’m left here to lament the taste of you.

Yes, I must acknowledge that my love for you is strong…
—you were the last piece of bacon in the fridge
              and now your go-o-o-o-one

...and now it’s time for me to move along.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo #12 

A few weeks back a friend challenged that someone should write a song about "bacon." Never one to let "sleeping challenges lie, "I came up with this. Yes, I went there, because...it's "BACON!! I'm weird like that!

Half - Empty











Once more I awaken in the middle of a storm—
global pain and loss
weigh heavy on my heart;
lack of intimacy tears my soul.
Thoughts churn and I wonder
“Will things ever be the same?”
Even optimists have their limitations.
Rain-laden clouds release their burden;
solace found in letting go.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo 

Friday, April 10, 2020

Found Along the Way

We were young then, oh, so young;
teens on the cusp of adulthood.
Did you even have an inkling that 
your acceptance would bind us for life?
Indelible moments accrued over time,
memories circumscribed by love
...I was the girl who came to dinner
   and never left.

Siblings by circumstance,
family by choice...
I would not be who I am, without you.

 © 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 10
April 10th is National Sibling Day

I am an only child blessed by 4 sisters and a brother who allowed me to "stay." Forever grateful that fate intervened all those years ago.

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Hope














Bright yellow
on a bleak day…

Hope.


© Ginny Brannan 2020

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Angel Tears












I awaken in the wee hours
to the sound of heavy rain
as it pounds against the roof
and am left to contemplate
whether truly raindrops,
or perhaps angels
mourning the loss
of both human life
and our humanity.

© Ginny Brannan 2020