This could be considered cheating, I suppose, but since I had no one scheduled as a guest today, I decided to feature myself. I started writing poetry as a child of five, believe it or not, and I’ve never lost my love for it. The second book I published, right after Wake-Robin Ridge, was Summer Magic, my little “chapbook” of poetry, and I’d like to tell you a bit about it, if you’ll indulge me.
Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love is a collection of contemporary poetry about exactly that–life and love. The first part of the book features poems about the magic a young boy discovers while camping in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The second part of the book has a sampling of poetry about love, life and death, autumn, and dreams coming true.
While I truly loved writing the poems featuring my WRR hero, Mac, as a young boy enjoying his summers in my favorite place in the world–the North Carolina mountains–there are several poems in the second part of the book that really came from my heart, too. Today, I’m going to share the longest of those, a poem that has a bit of an autobiographical nature to it. Hope you enjoy it!
ON THE RIVER
Crystal green flows beneath me,
Leafy arches rise above,
Duckweed parts as I float by.
I wonder where they went,
Gone overnight, it seems.
Another parting, another loss,
And I slide by,
Under all that green.
Just there, in deepest shade,
Sleeping emeralds cling.
Tree frogs rest in their
Smooth, damp skins
Waiting for the silver moon.
They’ll open their eyes for the silver moon.
As I pass by.
With arms raised to that same moon,
I once danced along the shore,
Young and wild and full of joy.
Moving to music
That stirred my soul,
And washed in that pale light,
Years ago, in that pale, pale light.
I remember it all,
And so much more,
As I slide by.
A scaled ribbon of vivid lime
Scribbles across my bow,
Curving by in his own silent slide.
I smile at Dickinson’s “narrow fellow”
Tasting the air with his tongue of flame.
I feel no “zero at the bone” for him,
For I have known far worse than he,
With a nod of my head,
I pass him, too.
And on I go.
Time and time and time goes by,
And still, green fronds protect me from above,
Green water lifts me from below,
Carrying me ceaselessly on my way.
Slower, now that Youth is gone,
Yet, sometimes a froth of foam and spray
Reminds me of those early days,
When all the water rushed clear and cold,
And teemed with Promise so bright
You could almost catch it in your hands.
That bubbling spring where it all began,
Now lies so far behind.
Far behind, and long ago,
While I move on.
One stroke at a time,
The only path from Here to There.
One stroke following another,
And I, all the while,
Still cherish the trees above,
The water below.
I wonder as a turn grows near,
What adventures wait beyond the bend?
Will they make my heart beat fast again?
How many shimmering curves lie before me yet?
How long does my river flow?
Buy Summer Magic HERE
AND THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT
Marcia Meara lives in central Florida, just north of Orlando, with her husband of over thirty years and four big cats.
When not writing or blogging, she spends her time gardening, and enjoying the surprising amount of wildlife that manages to make a home in her suburban yard. She enjoys nature. Really, really enjoys it. All of it! Well, almost all of it, anyway. From birds, to furry critters, to her very favorites, snakes. The exception would be spiders, which she truly loathes, convinced that anything with eight hairy legs is surely up to no good. She does not, however, kill spiders anymore, since she knows they have their place in the world. Besides, her husband now handles her Arachnid Catch and Release Program, and she’s good with that.
Spiders aside, the one thing Marcia would like to tell each of her readers is that it’s never too late to make your dreams come true. If, at the age of 69, she could write and publish a book (and thus fulfill 64 years of longing to do that very thing), you can make your own dreams a reality, too. Go for it! What have you got to lose?
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF MARCIA’S BOOKS