Page 65 - Wallingford Magazine Issue 53 Early Spring 2025
P. 65
Our Poetic Town
They Never Knew
It Breathe
can't work deeply
so they said. Inhaling
It can't be done. It Came on a Sunbeam and exhaling
Laws of physics It came on a sunbeam sitting quietly
make it impossible. one gray day, to a little girl, enjoying each moment
The bumblebees never knew and tunneled deep, healing body mind spirit
and serenely flew anyway. turned into heartsong that sprouted envisioning nature in bloom
A closer look showed wing vibrations listening birds singing gentle breeze
which enable the bumblebee to fly. wings. She carried it everywhere feel ing peace sun shining warmly on skin
until one day, when she reached
A good thing bumblebees never learned the age where she thought Close
what they were doing all along she knew all she needed to be happy, eyelids
wasn't really possible she let it go, only to discover, imagine
in someone's point of view - after a very long time and self-examine
or disconsolate many hills and valleys, smile relaxation
bumblebees would it was just what she needed, slowly deepen your breath
be falling in order to be herself. release experience calm
from the So she sent her wish out into the Universe. blissful awareness of your thoughts
sky. One day, it came on a sunbeam, back home. notice feelings relaxing shoulders
be grateful for this wonderful moment
by Jan Kowalczyk by Lynne Ford
by Deborah Wyrick
February (an etheree) Mussels In Brussels
snows I had never eaten Mussels Acrostic Prompt
blanket until I dined in Brussels, Heavy, suffocating, tormenting
Everyone has been there
shed, deck, yard, those mystifying mollusks And most make it through
squirrel-proof feeders that hide in their hard husk. Returning, revisiting, reliving it at times
where silent birds stop Prepared to tempt my palette Then, it is gone, really gone
for breakfast before dawn's Marseillaise with shallot. Buried, or packed up, or sent away
splendid yellow eye rises Too fancy, you fear. Really gone, though, or mostly?
to shed light, life, and lengthens days Instead, a mug of beer Everlasting scar is there if you know where to
with sweet energy that will awake with mussels and fries look
winter birds to sing songs of renewal. might be wise. A tear from nowhere, a strong reaction to a
Whatever I choose seemingly benign thing
by Karen J. O'Ciosek I cannot lose, Knowing that I may be in this place again, is
that not living?
when I am eating
mussels in Brussels. by Robin Cotter-Swetz
Acrostic for March by John J. DeDominicis
Irish whiskey in their pubs.
Ruined castles on their mighty cliffs.
Eire's the land of St. Patrick,
Leprechauns, shamrocks and
Antrim's Giant's Causeway.
Never see a greener green than in
Dingle, Doolin, Derry, and Dublin.
by Karen J. O'Ciosek
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