Wednesday, March 31, 2010

POEMS BY MARY RICKETSON IN HER BIRTH MONTH - MARCH 2010






FIREFLIES by Mary Ricketson

Twinkling lights in early evening
call my name out loud. I walk
the lane to settle myself
for a long hard day of work.

A million tiny glimmers of joy
draw me farther down the gravel
road and around the curve,
past horses and houses
and gnarled locust fences.

Sparkles of the ancient insect
slip me back to a faerie ring
where magic and sacred
have been one word.

When I was four a wise old woman
took me to a child place called Fairyland
where billions of tiny lights sparkled on trees.
Magic began there for me.

A little older, I reached out,
caught a glowing lightning bug,
drawn by the spirit of its glimmer.
A hundred more quickly passed me by.

Now I am content to gaze
ito the flickinging mystery,
seeped in the ancient light potion,
softly blessed by the earth.


MONDAY NIGHT GARDEN

Dusk drops in too early.
Ater work planting puts me
in a pleasant rush.
Broccoli, collards, spincah, lettuce,
sugar snap peas
love cool, rich, dark earth
in the promise light
of still short days.

Dusk drops in too early.
Flood lights and halagen
shine on my last two rows
of persistence and patience.

Finally at nine I lay down
my shovel and my hoe.
I walk to the house
I glance back.

Good night



AT HOME ON HANGING DOG CREEK

Sun shines on purple
phlox and chigger weed.
Ticks hide in tall bush.
Dogs collect 'em only
to occupy my idle after supper
porch-settin' time.

Rhododendron hells
and dog hobble claimed
some ancient bear dog.
He didn't make it home
one blue skied autumn hunt.
Indians, time out of mind,
called this place Hanging Dog Creek.

Water rushes
over big grey rocks
disturbs fallen sticks,
collects used up roots and time,
creates cover for young trout.
Sounds carry my mid down creek.

Full moon finally peeks
over Flea Mountain.
My thoughts hang btween
sounds of bullfrog calls
as I drift off to sleep.

Three poems by Mary Ricketson
from I HEAR THE RIVER CALL MY NAME

At Amazon.com and Finishing Line Press. (2007)

3 comments:

Glenda said...

Mary's poetry is soothing and peaceful as she takes the reader with her along the river and into her garden. Her poems are the kind I read over and over and still find a good feeling there.

mary ricketson said...

Thanks for taking me 'above the frostline,' Mary

Nancy Simpson said...

Hello Mary, I love seeing your name up in lights, and I hope you know, your poems will be there forever more. Any time someone googles our name Poet Mary Ricketson, they will find you.

The thank you is mine.