BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 41

cropped-cropped-cropped-homeplace1.jpg

Fireflies and Memories

When lightning bugs turn on their blinking lights
that signal sweaty, little hands to try
to catch them on the muggy, summer nights,
my memories slip in to make me cry.

I squeeze my eyelids tight to stop
the moisture forming there.

The fireflies take me back to childhood, free
as hummingbirds that sipped pink four o’clocks,
and apple blossoms from the twisted tree
that Mama planted deep beside the rocks.

As whippoorwills called to each other
and June bugs buzzed by the lilacs,

my mama, dad, and all the children sat
on edge of porch to watch the daylight fade.
We laughed and played. What fun it was to chat,
with voices joining evening serenade,

and splash our feet with cold water
from an old enamel pan!

My tears are falling freely now in spurts.
That last reflection is the one that hurts.

© Copyright, Freeda Baker Nichols

Baker Family (Scan0040)-2

Freeda, Bill, Yvonne, Walter, Sephrona, Dean, Emma Jean, Aaron and Merle

 

Banner Mountain Girl # 34

Sea Star

I live in the ocean
in a far away land.
One day I was swept
onto the dry sand.

A sweet girl picked me up
by one of my arms
and I was impressed
by her human charms.

Somehow, she knew
that I longed to be free.
She gently carried me back
home to the sea.

Rockport

Rockport — A Place Beside the Sea

~~© Freeda Baker Nichols

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BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 25 “A Tough Old Bridge”

Train Bridge at Shirley, Arkansas

A Tough Old Bridge

The railway bridge at edge of my hometown
no longer hears an engine’s  chugging hiss,
no longer shakes with jar of clacking wheels.
Old-timers spin tall tales of how they miss
the whistle blaring near the mountain bend.
Though trains no longer cross the Little Red,
the bridge has earned the honor to remain–
iron-clad above the restless river’s bed.
The swimming hole beneath the overpass
attracts both old and young from off the ridge.
The local preachers hold baptisms there
in sight of that old tough and rustic bridge.

© copyright, Freeda Baker Nichols

A Poem and a Picture

OUTSMARTED

Barn swallows rested on a wire up high.
One carried straw to build a nest this spring.
The other watched, aware of harm nearby.
To warn its mate, the bird commenced to sing.
The little black cat leaped from hayloft door.
The swallows flapped and flew like Peter Pan.
The cat spit-cleaned his paws, to help ignore
the fact that cagey birds outfoxed his plan.

black-cat

© 2016 Freeda Baker Nichols

My Page in Poems by Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas

Rockport, Massachusetts 2006Fantasy’s Friend

Setting my sail on a shimmering sea,
I invited you to skim with me.
Away from the shore to never-never land,
together we swept, hand in hand.
One day my hand unclasped your own,
I drifted then on the sea alone.
My heart became a desert trail
like waves of water, behind the sail,
which opened, then closed a shimmering plane
without you there to whisper my name.

I listen for your voice above the ocean’s roar.
If I could summon you back once more!
But I hear nothing and feel no breeze
to carry me over the shimmering seas,
which mirror your face in a puzzle-like shade
as I reflect on the error I’ve made.
How could I have been so blind
as to leave unlocked the door of my mind,
through which you escaped on the shimmering sea?
Oh, precious love, still sail with me.

© Copyright, Freeda Baker Nichols
From Poems by Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas, 1991

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