Poetry, Short Verse, Story Poems, and Short Stories by Myrna D. Badgerow The Writing Forum’s Writer of the Month - May 2003 The Writing Forum’s Writer of the Month - March 2008 ~THE WRITING FORUM’S WRITER OF THE YEAR - 2004~   AUTHOR’S BIO: I live in southern Louisiana, near the bayou community where I was born and raised. I’m widowed and have three children and am the proud grandmother of four. I enjoy reading and writing, gardening, Creole cooking, and being snubbed by six aloof felines. But mostly I enjoy life and the treasures I have found along the many paths I have been taken. A legally blind writer of poetry and prose I graduated from the Louisiana State School for the Blind and went on to attend Louisiana State University for a degree in psychology. Reading has long been a passion of mine. Robert Frost's 'The Road Less Traveled' has been my adopted anthem since high school. Being visually challenged has offered me a somewhat different perspective of life and some of this is reflected in my writing. My philosophy of life has always been that limitations are my own to set. I will never say I cannot until I have tried and could not. This is not failure to me… not trying is. Although my eyesight has sometimes demanded I take a different approach to get to where I’m going, it has never dulled my vision. It lives within my heart and soul and is crystal clear. My blindness is only a small part of who I am and does not define me. What I choose to do with it, despite it, or because of it, does. PUBLICATIONS: “My Words, My Thoughts, My Heart” a book of poetry, was released in 2004. “Breath of the Bayou” also a book of poetry, was released in February, 2009.  Please Email me for ordering information. NEW PUBLICATIONS: "Bits & Pieces" Bits & Pieces is a collection of mostly shorter versed poetry, some as few as 30 words of simple thoughts. A few longer pieces are included as well. The poems are inspired by life and love, nature and relationships. Available at the link below: http://www.lulu.com/shop/myrna-badgerow/bits-pieces/paperback/product-18722316.html "I Heard A Sparrow" I Heard a Sparrow is a view of seasons of nature and life through the eyes of the blind and legally blind. It focuses on the senses of touch, sound, taste, and smell to paint pictures of life and nature. Available at the link below: http://www.lulu.com/shop/myrna-badgerow/i-heard-a-sparrow/paperback/product-188654 72.html LINKS TO MY OTHER PAGES HERE AT THE WRITING FORUM: Short Verse Poems Story Poems Short Stories Email: KajunCutie926@aol.com POETRY BY MYRNA D. BADGEROW Click on the button next to any poem title in the list below to be linked directly to that poem’s location on the page:   Clothe Me   Footsteps   Whisper to Me   Time’s Reasoning   The Music   Wine   What You Are   Really and Truly   What Might Have Been   Revealing   My Loss   Forgiveness   Guide Me   Impish Games   Change   Yes, I Am   Within the Soul   Where Love Abides   Understanding   Twilight Sky   Threads   Simplicity’s Song   Waiting   Up To Us - tankabun   Sweet Sound of Silence   The Rides of Life   Sorrow’s Monologue   They Give Us   There is That Something   The Diffference   Nature’s Whim   Life... A Journal - haibun   Lessons   Silent Musings   Other Days   Only She Knows   Inheritance   I Will   Clothe Me I put pen to paper sharing my nakedness, my vulnerability, my memories, and those dreams I have just begun to dream. I ask of you only this... Clothe me not in shades of gray, in shadowed hues of somber and dull. Clothe me not in painted brilliance, in colors of sun and moon, or the vibrancy of rainbows... Clothe me not in leftover thoughts, edged in the richness of golden thread... Instead clothe me in the gauze of transparency and warm fleece of compassion. Clothe me in vivid breaths of every moment lived, in the tattered patches of an ordinary life, and in the stardust of my extraordinary dreams... Clothe me in honesty of spirit, strength of soul, and sanguine truth of self. Clothe me in every word I have written, every song I have ever sung, in every yesterday and every tomorrow still to be. Clothe me in the simple garb of today, in every contradiction and imperfection. But most of all, clothe me in the palette of life, the living of it, the understanding of it, the appreciation for family and friends... and please, clothe me in love. © mdbadgerow   Footsteps Scattered sequences of time Litter our journeys and traveled paths Cushioning our footsteps Just as their shards remind us Of where we have been And how we arrived at every Destination. We may choose to collect them, Tuck them away.... but perhaps It is better if they are left alone... Scattered sequences, littered debris, Shards of who we were and who we are... So that every journey we take, Every path we travel, Will leave an impression On footsteps yet to come. © mdbadgerow   Whisper to Me Keep me not in darkened shadow For my soul must see its light Forsake me not my imagination Or ridicule my sightless plight Toss me not into waters shallow Nor the depths of sorrow's blight Paint me not in colors dull Shade me in hues bold and bright Lead me not into blinded fury Whisper to me, instead, of words to write © mdbadgerow   Time's Reasoning Continuing.... the breathing of every moment, dreaming every dream, singing simply because you can, walking with memories tucked into every pocket, laughing... loving... living... remembering, embarking on new journeys, embracing new scenery, sipping the wine of time's reasoning... It is not easy but it is what we must do. © mdbadgerow   The Music I watch the sky change from day to night perched upon the fence of deceptive visions... and I am so very content. The music of approaching twilight tells me its story, sings for me every note of time, plays the stings and keys of every moment I am gifted with... I sigh softly and listen as day captures it and carries it into night. © mdbadgerow   Wine Between the candid portraits of time There lies the truth of prose and rhyme. Each to its own... each to share The footsteps and dream waiting there. We cannot know until the words speak What secrets will be allowed to peek Into the world and make themselves known. In brilliant and dull, true colors are shown To all who would wish to read and to hear And sip of creativity's wine we all keep near. © mdbadgerow   What You Are Words, you have been my rock, My mountain, my cooling stream, My arms of comfort, my irony, And my truth. You've laughed with me in the best of times. You have consoled me in the worst of times. You have promised me a future Even as you have held onto my past. My ordinary days live in your reality. You have become my family, My friends, and sometimes just Those acquaintances who tiptoe In and out of my life when I need You most... How grateful I am to all of you! I am also truly sorry I did not Recognize your generous gift sooner... The sharing of yourselves, Your secrets and your thoughts. You are artists and composers, Consummate performers in black and white... But I know you wish not to be the center Of these accolades... you only wish to be What you are in the best and in the worst Of times.... A comfort, a mountain, a cooling stream... You simply wish to be my friends. And ... you are. © mdbadgerow   Really and Truly To live within shadows of our mistakes Is not really living And to give with anticipation of return Is not truly giving To forgive in word, not in heart, Is not really forgiving To believe in faith, but demanding proof Is not truly believing And to love with strings and chains Can never be loving at all © mdbadgerow   What Might Have Been I remember the beginning of us, Memories kept with absolute wonder Of how easily we fell into love And its sweet songs of silence and thunder. Like yesterday, the concerto still plays, Dancing through dreams, in chords of time gone by, Bringing smiles of joy and peace of spirit A laugh, a tear, a whisper, and a sigh. Oh, these memories that I must cling to! Who could have known how brief it all would be... Lying still in arms of another time, I hear new arias searching for 'me'. Yes, I remember and think once again With absolute wonder... what might have been. © mdbadgerow   Revealing I find myself in time's shadow Content to rest in cool resolution Not seeking an evolution Into the honesty of light It is not that I fear honesty But I am comfortable in my truth And need no further proof That I was meant to be where I am With sound of song and laughter And scent of rain and earth The taste of wisdom's worth The touch of wind and love revealing I 'see' all in the shadow That hides behind vision's light I feel my life's honesty Defining just who I am Daughter of tears and laughter Child of discovery revealing © mdbadgerow   My Loss If time allows my words to gather Until ready for display As a humble poetic bouquet, I would ask for nothing more. If time allows them to touch thoughts And speak to another's heart, Igniting the tiniest spark Of reflection's fire... And if time allows me not to see Where my words are taken, Unbounded and unshaken, I would not mourn the loss. For I would only wish to gather The grains of my being, no more Than the seeds of random thought, Or perhaps the fuel to fire Another's pen, or maybe just to see My spirit, feel it, but mourn not my loss. © mdbadgerow   Forgiveness (inspired by the piano composition of the same name  by Donovan Johnson and so titled with his permission) Spring comes, poised within time's breath, Holding winter's absolution, its promise Of renewal, its cleansing, the bliss Waiting in the shadows of April's season. How I long to hear its music, Its taste of sweet restless wind, its scent Of rebirth, and the touch of days spent In impatient want and wonder! How I wish to sing in uplifted voice, And let the lyrics carry me Into the joy of spring's reality, Affirming winter's forgiveness. Take me now and steal my breath, Let my spirit embrace this season. Play for me chords of nature's music And leave my soul in awe and wonder. Let acceptance spill into my voice, Long in need of its own forgiveness. © mdbadgerow   Guide Me Lead me not into the abyss Of negativity. Instead, guide me Into the realm of Positive awareness. Do not fling wide the curtains Of biased cruelty. Instead, raise the shades Offering understanding And acceptance... Sometimes I need The reminder too.   Impish Games The night sky awakens awash In twilight's glee, its cohabitants Playing impish games reminiscent Of mischievous children. Stars are bumping elbows As though to gain notice While clouds chase and race... And moon, the ever-watchful parent, Cannot scold or reprimand For it enjoys the tableau so very much.   Change Sometimes we are given little choice but to change. Fate, time, or circumstances will demand it. The key to living is understanding this. The key to survival is accepting it.   Yes, I Am Years have passed since I picked up my pen of curiosity and simplicity. The words I write have changed as have I... they are more reflective, more introspective, and perhaps even more colorful, more conscious of the reader, the heart and soul found within the words. But I, the self-professed apprentice, the self-titled 'non-poet' have not, as I am still exploring, still evolving, still practicing the craft of writing, the art of poetry. May I never forget the words I've written... may I continue to look forward to those I have yet to write, embrace the lessons they teach me, and may I always be willing to give them away, placing them in the heart of others, and know they have found a safe haven. Yes, I am still an apprentice that writer still finding her place, that non-poet still passionate about words... and I am still very content to be just that.   Within The Soul 'silence, a seamstress of quiet dignity, embraces in cloaks of assurance, stitched with threads of hesitant beginnings' --excerpt from 'Comfort' I call upon the seamstress again she of quiet dignity, of silence, of secret thoughts, of dreams unfinished and almost forgotten... I wonder if perhaps it is time to mend my quilt of time, to patch seams of uncertainty, to replace tattered threads of life, to change the cloak of indifference and to believe in tomorrow once more... but she, in her muted brilliance, does not answer because we both know that the truth can only be found within me... and the comfort that lies within my soul.   Where Love Abides If I could say the words you long to hear, Whisper of love and faith, sweet beginnings, Would you listen or would the breeze, I fear, Carry my words to hesitant endings? If you could tell me how you really feel, Speak of those things that cause you to question, Would I then understand, or let time steal The chance to know, embrace love's protection? If we could each reach out and simply touch Yearning souls, unafraid, seeking only The dream we share, the future we have brushed On poetry's parchment, healing 'lonely'. If we could only trust, let souls collide.... Ah, how sweet it would be where love abides!   Understanding I have walked with Time often, Reminiscing of what has passed, Whispering of blessings amassed, Kept company with shared memories I have welcomed our companionship... Admitting my need, sometimes expecting More than Time could offer, reflecting On my life and dreams, my misgivings Truth and Wisdom always at a distance, Knowing that only I could invite. Could accept or could deny, Their places in my journey. Time had always understood me Though I thought Time complacent And was therefore hesitant To offer it the same understanding As years have fled I find myself often Seeking Time, still enjoying the moments and memories, Anticipating the companionship, And for that while, forgetting the misgivings Of my tomorrows, shortening the distance, The acceptance of my next journey... Yes, Time had always understood me May I one day offer it my own understanding   Twilight Sky Time and I sit together Sharing a sunset, one beat Of life's heart, a bittersweet Companionship at times... For Time has seen my best And been with me at my worst, Has heard my pleas, unrehearsed, Understood my changing moods... And I, too, understand Time, its need To mark the end of every day When sun and moon cavort and play, Teasing an almost silent twilight sky... There is that one breath, That one sigh we both await Before Time claims nature's fate, And then softly tiptoes away... I wish we could spend them together These last moments, these most cherished times When day and night give us their best. Blending near silence and twilight moods... But I know there is that need For Time to skip across the sky, Gathering twilight's last lingering breath, Before silently slipping away.   Threads Misplaced, forgotten The scattered pockets of life Holding the keys of tomorrow And the change of yesterday, Gum-wrappers of childhood, Lists of adulthood, memories Safe, sometimes tattered, But held together by threads of Faith keeping them safe because we Never know when we may need them.   Simplicity's Song To write of things innate And those things not yet known To bleed a concerto, time's very own Musicality of moments embraced To compose all things unseen Like the silence of sun called home Or the wisdom of an unwritten tome, A hymn lying within a scholar's mind To scribe of flawed perfection An aria of perfect vision Played on strings of His decision Strummed by beatings of the heart To breathe of things sometimes not heard And the scent as summer fades.... Taken by the wind with memories made Every word becomes a song! Ah yes, the lyrics of things innate Born into us and so embraced. The flow of notes amid what's unseen And the rhyme that hums within the mind A lullaby, a symphony, of sweet perfection Complex rhythms that stir the heart But the most beautiful composition never heard Is poetry played as simplicity's song. © mdbadgerow   Waiting morning comes, nudging the bayou and trees and time to waken and stretch tired arms and breathe stale musty air... unrelenting heat settles itself between earth and sky while a summer wind plays listlessly through leaves yearning for autumn's permission to shed shady tethers and drift away into another dream but leaves can only sigh in resignation knowing it will be a long wait but somewhat content because it never waits alone... the bayou and time wait too. © mdbadgerow   Up To Us (tankabun) Time counts the shadows Drifting across clouds and stars It measures each breath, Tucks away each memory Left behind in its travels Time! As children we do not understand its significance nor do we pay it heed as it passes by for we are poised for the flight, wings at the ready, eyes ever skyward to begin the next journey. As young adults we begin to see its importance though we often ignore its truth. Believe the message cannot be meant for us. Believe that somehow we can still its passage if it must be stilled. But it is when we age, when the years and time have caught up to the other, that we truly understand. Time is fleeting and easily wasted. It is its own master and we cannot harness it nor can we make it wait while we are busy living life. Time gives us chances to use it wisely. It gives us chances to learn from it. It gives us chances to discover who we are and who we might want to become. It is up to us to give Time the chance to guide us. It is up to us to embrace it. It is up to us to be grateful for it. It is up to us to allow Time to be our enemy or our friend, or both. Time will not ask these things of us... it will just give us the chance to learn and to live.. it is up to us to do so with Time in mind. © mdbadgerow   Sweet Sound of Silence I listen to the near silence of Time In between the spaces of memories Left behind by seasons, laughter, and trees, By dreams, by love and tears. They linger there, content to be Tucked away, safe, until the need Arises that they must bleed Their wisdom into my soul. I feel each breath once taken, Inhale every scent, touch Every tear my fingertips have brushed And taste the flavor of life lived. Ah, yes, how good it is To see, to really know, that I Have been blessed, as reasons why Or why not fade, and I am left to silence. I have made my peace with time, And with those memories and tears, That seemingly would not let me be, Tearing my heart, piercing my soul. I no longer rail about the time taken To continue beyond what I have lived. Instead, I reach for what will be, what is... And listen again to the sweet sound of silence. © mdbadgerow   The Rides of Life To ride the merry-go-round of life Is what we all do best. We are often Thrown onto the roller coaster of Unexpected, the slide of unplanned, And the bungee chord of daring to Take a chance. Sometimes we stumble Onto the swings of comparisons and Hop off quickly to find our seat on The carousel of understanding. The Ride is not always smooth and the Gears may shift as our lives do, but In the end it is worth it, even if we Do not gain knowledge. We gain Experience and we gain insight into who we are And who we might like to be. © mdbadgerow   Sorrow's Monologue a memory comes, clouding my distant skies in blues of misery and grays streaked with sadness, brush strokes of somber mood color my canvas of thought, dripping heartbreak onto an ordinary day and darkening those moments passing through my sorrow's monologue... and I reach out, touching the memory before granting it freedom to return to its rooms of lonely, its solemn shelf of remembrance, listening to its echo of reassurance... bidding me farewell as it has done many times before, visiting only briefly, seemingly content in my fleeting company... and I, content, too, in its companionship for this little while, wait for the silence that I know will come when my melancholy visitor leaves again drifting within those moments passing once more through my sorrow's monologue © mdbadgerow   They Give Us Words and love.... how simple the concept but how complex the reality. They spill forth from thoughts and dreams, from joys and sorrows, from ordinary days and those extraordinary moments. They mist the eyes and soften the heart, they touch the soul and give new meaning to themselves and to us, and in their most perfect form, blending tears and ink, they give us life, they give us hope, they renew our faith, help us find strength, and adorn parchment laid bare with the truth of their being. They can both be transparent and obscure, and can be shadowed or shine with brilliance. They can give us another breath or take our last breath away. Words and love.... ah, yes, it is good! © mdbadgerow   There is That Something I hear your voice again within the changing wind like a distant dream I cannot hide from I see your tender smile when I'm not looking like a photograph that simply will not fade Letting go is the hardest thing I've ever had to do and even when I think I have there is that something reminding me of you I smell the scent of you as I go through my day a memory lingering of another time and place I feel your gentle touch sweetly upon my skin a feathered kiss lightly placed, softly sealed Letting go is the hardest thing I've ever had to do and even when I think I have there is that something reminding me of you I know the time has come to no longer cling to the past but letting go is the hardest thing I've ever had to do and even when I think I have there is that something reminding me of you... I know what you'd want for me because I'd want the same for you but letting go is the hardest thing you've ever asked me to do and even when I think I have there is always that something reminding me of you always there is something reminding me of you © mdbadgerow   The Difference Reality versus make believe... How many ways can we explain, describe, or even justify this debate? Acceptance versus denial? Self-expression versus plagiarized thoughts? Admitting guilt versus pretending innocence? Honesty versus 'white-laced truth? Reality versus make believe... Perhaps there is a blending of the two As in our beliefs and those of others, Or the personal values of each, The experiences that are ours alone, And the interpretations of these. Reality versus make believe... Ah, the juxtapostional relevance, The on-going comparison of perceived Errors in viewpoints, In moral decisions, In learned traditions, And inspired discovery. Reality versus make believe... Make believe versus reality? Perhaps the true question And answer are the same... Do we really understand the difference at all? © mdbadgerow   Nature's Whim January's breezes Tease the metallic melodies Conducted by batons of brass, The chimes of wind, Instrument of nature's whim, And their arias of passing winter Serenade time and memories Hanging from every Melancholy moment Watched over by sun and moon. © mdbadgerow   Life... A Journal (haibun) Life... the living of it, the loving of it... the understanding of it... is as unique to each of us as are the petals of every rose, the colors of every rainbow, and the pattern of stars filling every night sky. winter fades slowly breathing its last frosty sigh across land and sea Life is like a journal, written on the pages of our own time, in our own ink, filled with drips and splotches and sometimes perfect penmanship. It is a never ending story, a continuing drama, an off-beat comedy...and with every turn of the page we begin a new episode, in black and white and technicolor, told in many words or in but a few. It is every season lived and every moment remembered and those we do not. spring rouses itself seeds of curiosity plant new memories It is the living of it, the loving of it, and often the understanding of it that makes it so special to us. Our lives cannot be lived by others nor should we expect it or accept it. Life is not always kind... sometimes it is hard to love and impossible to understand. But this is how it must be. To live life as it should be lived is to experience it, embrace it, and remember that what matters most is what we make of life, not what we allow life to make of us. And when the journal's pen goes dry, we must accept it as we continue into our next journal, turning that next page. summer carries on blazing sun, day's indigo cooling midnight blue Life is a gift... sometimes we tear it open and relish it, but often we sit back and simply enjoy... or curse it when the gift just doesn't seem to fit or seemingly of no use to us. But always remember and understand... there is a reason for all things. All the drips and splotches, the neatly formed letters, the colors, the black and white, the imperfections... yes, they all are meant to be, even if we never truly understand why. autumn leaves scatter leaving us a memory of season now past Life... live it, love it, embrace it, and even curse it if you must... but never refuse the opportunity to do these things. Share it... rejoice in it... turn every page you can. It is unique. It is worth the time it takes. It is LIFE... your life... and it is a gift! © mdbadgerow   Lessons I have learned much in the school of life, did the assignments, passed a few, failed at others, kept notes only to toss them out later... I followed good examples but forged my own way when necessary, saw change as a challenge, and thought I did it all quite well until unexpected loss taught me its own difficult lessons... I learned filled rooms did not really mean you were not alone, tasting rain was not nearly so sweet unless someone was watching, skies blushing at sunset were more exquisite when love stood beside you, breathing deeply of each day was much harder than I could ever imagine, and memories did not wait for an invitation to visit, but what surprised me most were the sounds of change... I've learned that sometimes... it is simply silence. © mdbadgerow   Silent Musings our journals share definitions scribbled thoughts abstract dreams journeys and meanderings of wandering minds inked response bleeding from the soul painting voice breathing scents weaving threads, rags, and remnants savoring life's taste penned from heart undisguised and true these words born these words spilled cast onto the lined pages of silent musings © mdbadgerow   Other Days I feel curiosity nudging me A need to question, to seek Answers, perhaps to peek Into the mind, purge the soul It has happened before, This feeling of discontent, This stumble, brief descent Into the realm of sadness I do not fear a long stay Nor do I see myself lingering Before the sought after cleansing Of soul, of mind, and of heart. It is a need, a want... to remember Moments cast in the best of times, Words recited in prose and rhymes, And thought and song of other days. I do this for the best of me To reassure a tired soul That all that's been before Did not always bring sadness The past does not demand me stay For it knows that within my heart I do know and I do remember That goodness too was there in yesterdays © mdbadgerow   Only She Knows she walks though life strolling to the beat of a different drummer... always determined usually confident yet half afraid quite often because she knows... others do not understand the roads she has traveled or the obstacles overcome... and nor should they, but this same determination, this self-confidence honed over her many years of struggles and journeys begun, journeys ended, lessons learned, can be seen as arrogance or over-confidence. Only she knows how far from reality these perceptions are... how her struggles continue, how her strength is tested, how she is sometimes half-afraid of the world she was born into and the world into which she was not. Only she knows that her confidence is her own last defense against herself and those doubts that plague, those insecurities that haunt, those questions without answers. Only she knows that it is but her stubbornness that keeps her only half-afraid... without it she would simply slip away into her own oblivion. Only she knows... but the beat goes on © mdbadgerow   Inheritance as we face the end of our days we often find ourselves pondering what we leave behind... we reflect upon the value of our lives, the significant and also the insignificant treasures, and the impact of each on those who shared our time...some will tally the worth of gold and silver and the materialistic riches gathered through the years, others will attach their legacy to a name, claimed merely by happenstance of birth or acquaintance, not earned by merit, nor remembered for that which was accomplished or even attempted to accomplish... such a meager inheritance it is...and there are also those who feel a legacy is not for us to leave to others... each must pave their own path, make their own journey through the curves and byways of life... but there are those of us who understand that the only true legacy we can leave is a memory... a timeless reflection of the person we were, not who we might have been, an honest portrait of what we stood for and what we stood against, the heartbeat of our dreams, the essence of our souls, and the blood that flowed within our veins...a reminder of whom and how we loved, the friendships we shared, the value we placed on life and the joy of living it... though we may wonder if over time it will be forgotten, this memory, this legacy of emotional inheritance, we truly do not fear... for we know it will live on in every breath taken by those who knew us and loved us, those we knew and loved in return, and it will remain in the souls of those we have touched in word or deed...and this is the only true legacy that is worth leaving behind .... simply a memory. © mdbadgerow   I Will The days of giving and sharing, of peace and love and faith, are passing quickly into the days of reflection and resolutions. On New Years' Day I will reflect. I will look back upon the years that have been, the moments passed, the memories left behind. I will not make those resolutions expected of me, those misguided promises doomed to failure. Instead I will simply continue to remind myself that each day is important and live each as though it were my last. I will remember He who gives me dreams and creates the world around me. I will embrace those I love and never forget to let them know how much they mean to me. I will listen to my heart and soul, keep them open to change and new experiences. I will cherish those who have gone before me into the next lifetime, holding their memories close and lessons taught even closer. I will laugh. I will love. I will live. I will give praise to Him and be always thankful for the gifts given me.... and I will always try to remember to simply breathe, not because I must but because it gives me time to reflect and believe. © mdbadgerow