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Archive for June, 2012

Haiku #9

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Spider

Spider (Photo credit: sez9)

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After wind and rain

Spider eats his wet, torn web

then just spins anew.

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(c) 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

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Sparrow

Sorry to be so behind reading and posting – will try to catch up with everyone soon! Thanks to everyone for your presence and support.

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Wood carving by my uncle Bob McCausland, 1994

(And for now, here’s a repost from last August)

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Oh garden bird,

you kept a wild heart

between your ribs

as you danced the morning breeze

and darted circles

through the phlox.

Your last song

was of forgiveness

to the cat

before you died.

Let me hold your empty body,

till I feel again the pulse

of swaying hills

and flying trees.

My wings ripen

with your feathers

as we both reclaim the sky.

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(c) 1995, 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

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Wood carving of song sparrow by my Uncle Bob McCausland in 1994

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Freddy in 2009

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There is no

such thing as

just a cat.

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(c) 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

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It was recently discovered that Freddy has a terminal illness and I wanted to put this up now, while he’s still with us.

Update: R.I.P Freddy, 6-29-2012. Miss him….

* Tricubica: A poetic form ;) that requires 3 lines, each with 3 syllables – invented solely for the purpose of turning this bit of prose into a “poem”. ;)


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(a Mayberrie poem)

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At noon she heard

the swarm of bees

and knew they’d lead her

to the woman in the woods

who kept their hive.

Maybe she could trade

her pouch of agates  

for a little jar of honey.

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Starting down the common trail

she heard the heavy clops

of many horses.

King’s men!  She stepped aside,

prepared to curtsey,

then she saw his face

and so much tender in his eyes

she swooned, her heart a-thunder.

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Waking in a sunlit patch

of summer grass

she sat up, drowsily.

Where were the bees?

What daylight faint was this?

Her agates too were gone.

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And then she remembered -

the horses, and his countenance!

She felt a shine

on her left hand

and there around her finger

was a smoldering ring

with royal seal,

and nestled at her side

was a little jar of honey.

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©  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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(For a list of all poems in this series, please click on the Mayberrie tab above.)

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Closer

(An old one from 1976…)

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I searched for truth

in stained-glass cubbyholes

but couldn’t find its face.

I sought it out

in books — alas,

the printed word

was blurred.

I went to class

and hoped to find it there,

but every esoteric lecture

left me still half bare.

I closed my eyes

and chanted “Om”

and reached out with my heart

but in return

I only heard a chuckle.

Now I step

into my soul

and boldly knock

on wisdom’s door.

The sky grows bright,

the air turns rare

and there’s God’s footprint

on the floor.

I follow.

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©  1976, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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Roy Schaefer was one of the best rhyming and meter poets I’ve ever known. He passed away 12 years ago – and today would’ve been his 82nd birthday. His book, Songs from my Poet Tree was self-published in 1994 and will hopefully be reprinted by his family some day.

This tribute was written shortly after his death.

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Here’s to you, Roy – you are not forgotten!

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He was the poet

who made it seem easy

to write clever rhyme

sometimes deep, sometimes breezy

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with well-metered sentiments

and humor too

he immortalized everyone

he ever knew.

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He wrote about butterflies,

poppies and love,

he wrote of the troll

and the skunk and the dove.

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He wrote of the sea

and he wrote of the moon,

he wrote of the snail

and the deer and the loon.

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He wrote of the past

and he wrote of a dream,

he showed us that some things

are not what they seem.

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And so he will live

in the world’s memory

harvesting words

from his dear Poet Tree.

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(c) 2000, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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Update:  June 20th – I googled Roy’s name and found a link to one of his poems, for anyone who’s interested: http://a-poets-haven.faithweb.com/AsIWoodBe.htm

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I would post some from his book, but would probably need permission from his family since they’re copyrighted.  


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6-17-2012

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Summer’s wind blows hard,

maple seedling, pink phlox lean

hold each other up

wrap around each other’s stem -

nature’s symbiotic hug.

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(c) 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a Mayberrie poem)

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She wrapped her shawl

more tightly in the cold

of silent villagers

and climbed across

the piles of stone,

breathing in the salt

of drying seaweed

on the sand.

Looking far

across the bay

she saw the cliffs

of Mayberrie

and farther still, his castle.

Was he pacing hallways,

or would he get some rest?

Nothing stirred

except for something white

that flashed atop one tower -

no doubt just a gull.

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His left arm in a cotton sling,

bandages around his head

he took his leave

from rites and duty,

left the court for solitude.

Up the stairs

that spiraled to

the tower’s top

he climbed,

and there he gazed

upon the sea,

and fishermen at peace.

Turning he could see

across the bay

to her village

neatly tucked above the rocks.

Was she there

or had she fled?

The beach was still

except for something white

that moved

along the shore.

No doubt just a gull.

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© 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

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(For a list of all poems in this series, please click on the Mayberrie tab above.)

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Honeybee delight

warm sunshine on lavender

inspiring day job.

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(c)  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a Mayberrie poem)

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The countryside was still -

even birds

were waiting for a sign.

No one knew what happened

behind the castle walls

but rumors spread

there’d been a coronation.

Was he now her king,

or by his cousin slain?

She dares not think.

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Royalty could never wed

a servant girl

but with the kingdom

now secure

in kindly reign

he knew the people would demand

that he take a bride.

But this he cannot do

for it would be a bigamy.

He dares not think.

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On sunny days

she likes to haunt

the distant hills

with deer and wild hare

for company.

She brings them carrots

from her garden,

sometimes greens and herbs,

and whispers to them

not to wander

closer to the village:

they will a farmer’s arrow meet.

She dares not think.

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© 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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See Part III, 5th verse:

“… just one name

between them now

and only the forest to know.”

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(For a list of all poems in this series, please click on the Mayberrie tab above.)

 

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