Christmas Cactus

 

Oh, Christmas cactus

within your lovely space,

you chase away the cold winter winds.

Among your red blooms,

I recall the past seasons

when our family gathered

for the Christmas dinner 

and unwrapped presents

before the flaming fireplace.

The cactus!  The cactus!

Come give the cactus a song.

I caress your satin buds,

laugh, and sing carols.

Oh, Christmas cactus!

How do you know 

to bloom on His birthday?

--Brenda Kay Ledford

I wish all my blogger friends a blessed Christmas overflowing with peace and joy!

Brenda 

Deck the Lodge

 

Brasstown Resort decked

with evergreen boughs,

red ribbons wrap the stairs,

mistletoe and wreaths hung.

Lights glow on the tree

trimmed with old-fashioned ornaments,

the logs brightly burning

in the rock fireplace.

The resort is filled with cheer,

merry Christmas music,

drinking apple cider,

the snowcapped pine branches,

and thousands of crystals glitter

on the Brasstown Bald;

cardinals chatter at the feeders,

paper chains hug the tree.

               --Brenda Kay Ledford

This poem appeared in "West End Poet's Newsletter,"

                                     December/January/ February 2021

www.westendpoetsweekend.com

I wish all my blogger friends a very Merry Christmas and joyful New Year!

Jesus is the reason for the season!!!

Thanksgiving

 For all our blessings

too many to count,

Father, we thank you.

For the angel clouds

floating through azure skies,

waterfalls roaring into rivers,

songbirds lifting praise

in the golden poplars.

Father, we thank you

for the sun rays glittering

like sequins on the purple mountains.

We offer our prayers

of thanksgiving for our family,

the sweet smiles of children,

and for the food you provide.

Lord, thank you that gratitude

is a precious offering

that the poorest can make

and be richer for giving thanks!

               --Brenda Kay Ledford

I wish all my blogger friends a blessed and very Happy Thanksgiving!

Brenda

Picking Apples

 Grandpa Dallas Matheson's

apple orchard grew above the frost line

on Shewbird Mountain.

Each fall he took the sled

through the woods glowing

with orange, ruby, and lemon leaves

to pick the apples:

the black beauty, horse apple, hog sweet,

red June, striped May, pumpkin apple,

queen pippin, pound apple, and Ben Davis.

The grandchildren climbed the trees

and picked dozens of fruit,

every red, yellow, and red striped apple.

They made apple cider, apple butter,

and Ma Minnie's dried apple stack cake

and apple dumplings melted in your mouth.

--Brenda Kay Ledford

October

 Oh, October!

You put on a show

tapdancing over the hills

dressed in bright garments:

orange, lemon, and cranberry.

Oh, October!

You are a sassy month

stopping carloads of folks

who flock to view the fall foliage

and you somersault on the wind.

Oh, October!

You are a naughty child.

On Halloween you deck 

out in spooky costumes,

trick-or-treat

through out the night!

--Brenda Kay Ledford

This poem appeared in the September/October/November 2020 issue

       of "West End Poets' Newsletter"

I hope all my blogger friends will have a beautiful and blessed fall!

Barn Quilt

 

One autumn night

a Full Harvest Moon glows

over the Red Plank House.

The Bear Paw barn quilt

hangs on the old home.

Mama pieced the Lone Star

from the scrap box:

dresses, shirts, aprons, worn out.

Adventure in the mountains:

wildlife rangers chased

a black bear through

our front yard, across the porch.

Twin cubs climbed an oak,

Spot barked up the tree.

Bears wandered the woods

searching for berries and walnuts.

      --Brenda Kay Ledford

Autumn Wildflowers

Fog rises from the mountains

as pink clouds swirl ribbons

over the fields of goldenrod

burning their torches.

Early morning dew covers

the jewelweed sparkling

as gems in the sunlight,

hummingbirds dip and dive

among the Joe-Pye weed,

cattle graze in yellow-green pastures,

the ironweed nods purple

heads on the wind.

Butterfly weed dot roadbanks

across the countryside,

Monarch butterflies flutter,

bells bloom on sourwood trees.

                   --Brenda Kay Ledford

Berry Picking

Beside Hyatt-Mill Creek,
clumps of blackberries
tantalize the taste buds.
Sampling the offering,

sweet juice stains my hands,
berries plop into the bucket.
Watch for poison ivy,
briers snag the long sleeves,

chiggers nip the skin.
Thunderheads roar over
the Shewbird Mountain,
sister and rush home.

The aroma of berry cobbler
baking in the wood stove,
we crank the ice-cream handle:
a magical moment.
                     --Brenda Kay Ledford

Backyard Blessings

I hope my blogger friends are well and avoiding Covid-19.  I've never seen anything like this in my life.  It's like a Steven King horror movie. You are in my prayers and please stay safe.

BACKYARD BLESSINGS

This fall morning blessings overflow my backyard in Hayesville, NC.  Stillness fills my soul before the world wakes up.

The sun rises like a ruby above the Blue Ridge Mountains.  A wedge of geese resounds through scarlet clouds that reflect like fire on Lake Chatuge.

Golden rods dot the shoreline and a Monarch butterfly sips nectar from Joe Pye weeds.  Diamonds sparkle on the dew-drenched grass.

It's a moment of peace.  I could almost reach out and touch the hand of God before duties call me.  I gaze out my kitchen window as I fix breakfast.  I'm entertained by the bunnies that play in my backyard.

Two rabbits hop over each other.  They sail through the air, turn and stare.  One hops toward the woods, and the other chases it. They jump, gaze, and play hide-and-seek.  What a way to begin a new day.

I'm delighted to spy three white-tailed deer strolling toward the cornfield.  They glance around to see if anyone is watching.then munch on the corn.  A cool breeze rustles the blades of corn, gold glitters on the field.  A Lone Star quilt block graces the old red barn.

But that's not all the animals waking up.  A groundhog wobbles through my backyard with two babies trailing her.  She's proud of her children and showing them off to the human to admire.

You would think that's all the wildlife that inhabits my backyard, but next comes a parade of wild turkeys.  Three march in a straight line around the walnut tree glowing with yellow leaves.  The birds flap their wings and fly straight to the cornfield for their breakfast.

I'm so blessed to have a wildlife sanctuary in my backyard.  Nature puts on a show that's new and different each morning.  That's why I look forward to each day.

The Holy Bible says that God's mercy and loving kindness are new everyday. 

by:  Brenda Kay Ledford

This essay won a gold medal (first place) in the 2020 Cherokee/Clay Senior Games Arts Literary contest in North Carolina.

For more information, www.cherokeecountyseniorgames.org

Jesus is the Good Shepherd who takes care of His sheep.  I believe He will protect His children during this Covid-19.  Blessings to all my blogger friends!

Lenton Rose

A time to reflect,
earth looks forward
to the resurrection,
the lengthening of days.

Tulips spring forth
from their winter's tomb,
bluebirds lift praise songs
in the poplar trees.

Purple and white blossoms
nod their heads
along a stone sidewalk,
gems in a garden.

A girl's tears fell
on the snow,
angels turned them
into the Lenten Rose.
                --Brenda Kay Ledford

Wishing all my blogger friends a blessed Lent season and very happy Easter!

Brenda

Coronavirus

Our weather here in Western North Carolina just can't make up its mind whether it's winter or spring.  The jonquils are blooming early.  Last Saturday snow dusted these little flowers, but they just kept on letting their little light shine.

Well, we are having some hard times now.  The coronavirus worries a lot of folks.  Last night national news said, "It's not if the coronavirus comes to the United States, but when."

They suggested we get some supplies and "get ready" for the pandemic to strike!

I hadn't been too much worried about this epidemic until last night when national news gave us that warning.  Frankly, it scared me to think that this horrible disease might strike America.  I saw where they are working 24/7 trying to manufacture enough masks for our country.

This morning I called every pharmacy, health care facility, the health department, Wal-Mart, and hardware in our area trying  to locate a mask just in case the coronavirus reaches our part of the country.  I could not find a mask anywhere.  I looked online and even there they had sold out and would not restock for another month.

Fear overcame me.  What if the epidemic reached America?  What would we do to prepare for it?

I tried one more place looking for a mask.  A new hardware in Hayesville, George's Hardware, did have just a few masks left, but said they were in very short supply.  The clerk promised to save me a mask until I got to town.  It was indeed amazing that I was able to find a mask.

Now I know how it feels to be afraid of a pandemic.  My parents survived the polio epidemic, the flu epidemic, measles, small pox, TB, and other health crises.  How did they live through such fear?

I know the Lord took care of my parents, my grandparents, and my family.  He's the same God yesterday, today and forever.  I'm just believing that He will take care of us now and we will make it through this latest crisis.  As the old song goes, "I'm living by faith."

I hope all my blogger friends stay well and healthy.  My prayers are with you and that the coronavirus will not reach America and will end in the other countries.

As spring approaches our little part of the country, the light of Christ will shine on us, too.

 

The Little Leprechauns

There were some leprechauns
where the shamrocks leap.
They slid down a rainbow

and splashed in gold.
They danced with glee
because you see

they found a pot of gold
at the end of the rainbow.
After an Irish rain,

the little men sang
and wished little Reagan
Happy St. Paddy Day!
  --Brenda Kay Ledford

This poem appeared in "Pancakes in Heaven" journal.

I wish all my blogger friends a Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Brenda

THE COLOR PINK

Pink is playful,
blowing bubble gum,
licking cotton candy.

Pink is a peony
perfuming the crisp air,
a rain shower of petals.

Pink is calming
like a mountain stream
making sweet music.

Pink is creative,
playing notes
inspiring the artist.

Pink is pretty,
soft as a bed
of feathers.

Pink is love,
a dozen roses
on Valentine's Day.
            --Brenda Kay Ledford

This poem appeared in "West End Poets Newsletter,"
                                       December/January/February 2020

Happy Valentine's Day to my blogger friends!

Brenda