Ledford Publishes Poetry Book

Redhawk Publications is excited to announce the release of Brenda Kay Ledford's poetry collection, Blanche, Poems of a Blue Ridge Woman. Ledford wrote the book in the voice of her late mother reflective of the lives of mountain women in the early 1900s to the present time.

Redhawk Publications Senior Editor Robert Canipe remarked:  "This book is a terrific depiction of mountain life in western North Carolina.  Readers are sure to be transported to the mountains with each new poem they read."

Redhawk Publications is an artistic initiative of the Catawba Valley Community College, publishing written works of interest for the community, North Carolina, and United States.  CVCC is the only state community college with a publishing press.

You may order Brenda Kay Ledford's book at:  https://redhawkpublications.com

Her book is also available at:  The Beal Center; Hayesville, NC.

 

Autumn Glory

 

Fire ignites the limbs

of maple trees burning

like Moses' bush

at Young Harris College.

A red-tailed hawk cuts

through the azure skies,

Blood Mountain radiates with

lemon, orange, and red foliage.

A waterfall tumbles

to the tune of a marching band

performing in Clegg Auditorium.

Percussion instruments celebrate

the dance of leaves.

Evening shadows creep

into Brasstown Valley,

a Full Hunter's Moon glows.

              --Brenda Kay Ledford

Aunt Robenia

 This is a group photo of my father's family.  Aunt Robenia is on the second row, second from the left.

I enjoyed sitting on the front porch listening to Aunt Robenia spin tall tales.  She often told the story about the time she got into trouble in the fourth grade at Hayesville School.

Several kids were eating peanuts and threw the  shells on the floor in the old rock gym.  The substitute teacher wobbled into the classroom.  "Who threw down those shells on the floor?"  No one confessed.

She ordered a little girl to sweep the floor.  "What's wrong with you?" yelled the teacher.  "Didn't you ever learn how to sweep?"

Robenia told the teacher the little girl had polio and couldn't sweep.  The teacher told Robenia to sweep.

"No, I won't sweep," said Robenia.  "I didn't throw down the peanut shells."

The hefty teacher stomped to Robenia's desk.  She grabbed both of her arms and yanked her out of her desk.  Robenia took off and dragged the teacher around the room.  When she got to  the front of the room, Robenia pushed the teacher down, climbed on a desk, and jumped out a real high window.

Robenia ran to a nearby church and hid.  She peeked out the window and watched the principal chug-a-lug by in his old T-model Ford.  When  the coast cleared, Robenia hightailed it to her  sister's house.  Rena had a belly laugh about Robenia's latest capper.

The next day, Robenia returned to school.  The teacher avoided Robenia like the seven-year itch because she had never seen such a strong child.  No wonder Robenia was so stout.  She often got into fights with her brothers and whipped them.  

By:  Brenda Kay Ledford

Reprinted from:  Old Tales

                            an anthology by:  Old Mountain Press:  

                            www.oldmp.com

A Girl and Her Dog

 

My great-niece and her dog

are the best of friends.

After a hard day of work

in the first grade,

Reagan has fun with her dog, Henry,

playing catch ball in the yard,

splashing in the lake

(with Mama watching),

and singing a merry tune.

There's nothing to worry about,

homework all done,

just running and jumping

with a girl's best friend.

Joy and song,

catching golden leaves

as they twirl and turn

on gusts of wind,

like birds let loose from their cages,

little Reagan and Henry are

two of the best buddies:

a girl and her dog savor

the lovely season of fall.

          --Brenda Kay Ledford

I hope all my blogger friends will have a lovely fall and enjoy this beautiful season.

Some call it autumn, others call it God!

Fabulous Fall

 

Acorns tap the tin roof

of an old red barn,

maples square dance

in pumpkin-spiced skirts.

A wedge of geese

resounds through azure skies

and lands on an oval pond.

Goldenrods glitter in the meadow,

watercolors splash the mountains,

Queen Anne's lace spins doilies

on the country roadsides;

corns shocks rattle their fingers.

Lilac asters toss their shawls,

Monarch butterflies sip

sweet nectar from milkweed:

the katydids saw their fiddles.

                   --Brenda Kay Ledford

This poem appeared in "West End Poets Newsletter,"

                                        September/October/November 2021

 www.westendpoetsweekend.com

Happy fall to all of my blogger friends!  

Daredevil Dogs

 

Daredevil Dogs

Early one morning, Pepper ( a black lab dog), Lady (a golden retriever), and I took a walk.  I wanted to get a cup of coffee to sip as we walked.  

I tied Pepper and Lady to a table outside Ingles, and went inside to Starbucks for coffee.  I didn't stay very long.  When I got outside, I couldn't find my dogs.  The table was gone.  A trash can was turned over and it was a disaster.

I looked across the parking lot.  Pepper and Lady were running like scalded dogs and dragging the table.

"Pepper!  Lady!  Stop!" I screamed.

Lady looked back at me as though to say, "I'm sorry.  Pepper made me do it."

I ran and chased those dogs until I was out of breath.  They raced to the parking lot at Huddle House.  A woman was getting out of her car.  "Don't tear that car door off!" I yelled.  "I'll have to buy a new Cadillac."  The table just missed the car by inches.

Pepper and Lady headed up a hill.  The table bounce, bounce, bounced over the rocks.  Those dogs didn't stop a minute and loped toward a medical clinic.

A man was shuffling across the parking lot on a walker.  "Don't knock that man down!" I screamed.  I held my breath and thought I was might have a heart attack.  That table just barely missed the poor old man.

By this time, I was exhausted.  If I ever caught the dogs, how would I tie them up and return the table to Ingles?  I just didn't know what to do.

A man was standing outside the part's place.  He rushed to the runaway dogs, caught them, and tied them to a tree.  Then he picked up the table and returned it to Ingles.  I tried to pay him, but he wouldn't take a penny.

I tell you what, if I ever take another walk with those dogs, I'll never tie them to a  table outside Ingles again.  I'll find a good, strong, light pole.

Well, this story is fiction, but I wanted to post it hoping my blogger friends might get a laugh.

By:  Brenda Kay Ledford

Ode to the Sunflower

 Ode to the Sunflower

Queen of the mountains,

you turn your head

to the first rays of the sun

and toast a new day.

You count the footsteps

of the light ricocheting

through a timbered choir,

reflecting like gold

on Lake Chatuge.  Foliage turns

shades of the rainbow as fall

slips into the hills and hollows.

You spread your arms

and nod in a cool breeze,

dazzle in splendor stretching

to kiss the azure skies;

your face brightens the way!

               --Brenda Kay Ledford

I wish my blogger friends a happy and beautiful season as fall arrives in your part of the country.

Brenda