National Poetry Month Means That SOME POETS ARE OUT AND ABOUT - SHARING THEIR POEMS

Walt Whitman, P.K.Wright and Judy

Burch.

Poetry Writing Workshop at Young HARRIS COLLEGE INSTITUTE OF CONTINUING LEANING - Instructor: Nancy Simpson

This is one way to celebrate National Poetry Month

Left to Right: Clarence Lee Newton, Janet Bentley, Ann Cahill, Jo Carolyn Bebee, Barbara Groce, Judy Burch, Nancy Brewer, Pamela Wright, Jo Carolyn Bebee, Barbara Grose, Judy Burch, Nancy Brewer, and P.K. Wright.(not pictured Joan Howard and Jenny Moe)

SEE THE FULL APRIL MOON TONIGHT

Image by NASA

Tonight get good look at "The Grass Moon", "The Pink Moon" or as the Cherokee would say, "The Flower Moon."

TWO POEMS BY BRENDA KAY LEDFORD - Poet of the Month

THE RED HOUSE

I often dream

of the old red house,

a place of peace

where no one harmed me.

I often dream

of the red plank house

filling my heart with scenes

gentle as a stream.

I often dream

of my childhood home,

rain tapping the tin roof

like a drum, Mama humming

hymns as she baked bread,

and Daddy telling Irish stories.

From the front porch

watching falling stars

and sunsets blazing across

Shew Bird Mountain,

the old red house whispered

welcome to weary souls.

by Brenda Kay Ledford

Shew Bird Mountain

Order your copy from

Finishing Line Press

Georgetown, Kentucky

or Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Brenda+Kay+Ledford&x=0&y=0

Grandma Ledford

Crumbled cornbread into a glass of buttermilk.

Kept butter in the ice-cold spring

and drank water from a gourd.

Helped Grandaddy Bob strip cane

and made molasses each fall.

Stacked newspapers to the ceiling.

kept things she could use later.

Baked sweet bread for supper,

always made pink cakes.

Grew red geraniums beside the log cabin,

wore a straw hat in the sun.

Told stories about her eight children,

their names all begin with R.

Alleys wore and apron,

pinned her gray hair in a bun.

Pieced quilts from scraps,

gave her daughters a legacy.

by Brenda Kay Ledford

Shew Bird Mountain

WHAT OTHER POETS SAY ABOUT THE POEMS OF BRENDA KAY LEDFORD.

In lean yet suggestive lines of verse, Brenda Kay Ledford summons vivid glimpses of a vanishing mountain world. Mule-plowed fields, Lone Star quilts, clear cut hills bleeding with erosion, cornbread crumbled in buttermilk, lye soap and bluing on wash day, the tacitum speech of hard-worked folk, simple joys and hues and textures of a specific place--Ledford's beloved home ground in Clay County, North Carolina. Here's a Matheson Cove, Brasstown, Shew Bird Mountain. Trout Cove, Hyatt's Mill Creek, Cut Worm Phillip's store in Hayeville. Anyone who loves this place will see it here. --Charles Price

Click here to go directly to Brenda Kay Ledford's site

www.blueridgepoet.blogspot.com

Poet of the Month FOR APRIL 2010 - Brenda Kay Ledford

Brenda Kay Ledford has been named Poet of the Month in this her birth month, in this U. S. A. National Poetry Month, April 2010. Brenda is a native born Appalachian poet living and writing in Clay County, North Carolina. She has published poetry widely and is the author of thee collections: Patchwork Memories, Shew Bird Mountain, and Sacred Fire.

Brenda Kay Ledford is the four time recipient of the prestigious Paul Green Award. She first won in 2005 for her poety book, Patchwork Memories. She won in 2006 for collecting the oral history of Velma Bean Moore. In 2007 she received the Paul Green Award for her poetry collection Shew Bird Mountain ( Finishing Line Press) and in 2009 she received the award for her book Sacred Fire ( Finishing Line Press.)

Between now and the end of the month, Brenda Kay Ledford’s poems will be featured for your enjoyment. Comments will be appreciated.

Shew Bird Mountain

Loopin through an arch

of flaming poplars, burning maples

and golden rods,

sacred fire

drawing me to my Native land

where Cherokee hunted

game with bows and arrows,

danced around campfires

and chanted to the Upper World.

Buzzard swooped through valleys

forming the Shew Bird Mountain:

embers

caught on virgin forest.

Brenda Kay Ledford

from Shew Bird Mountain

Finishing Line Press

Legacy

The thead runs

from an Appalachian home

famed by golden poplars.

The thread loops

through Matheson Cove,

climbs Shew Bird Mountain

riding the wind with mountain laurel.

Whipperwills ricochet in the holler,

Hyatt Mill Crek whispers my name.

The thread zig zags

through the corn patch

Grandaggy Bob plowed with mules.

The thread dashes

milk Ma Minnie churned

into butter golden as sunflowers.

The thread plucks fruit

from trees bowing to the ground

and fries peach pies.

The thread gallops

through generations selecting genes,

stitchng them together

thread by thread

like Mama piecing

a Lone Star Quilt.

Brenda Kay Ledford

from Shew Bird Mountain

Finighing Line Press

Full Sun Perrennial Garden in the Middle of a Southern Appalachian Diciduous Forest

WELCOME TO MY GARDEN

Last sunday was Easter Sunday. There were very few flowers blooming that day up here on the mountain. I had a visitor who took a few photos, but there was almost nothing except daffodils and forsythia.

On Tuesday, I took this photo of one of the flowering quince bushes in the lower garden.

Last Sunday, Easter Sunday, Bloodroot was in full bloom in the woods. The sad thing about Bloodroot is, if you blink, you miss seeing it. You have an opportunity here of about two days to see it, and then it is gone.

Today, April 8th, there is not a single one still blooming. But, there are a million wood anemone standing right near their place.

Here is your last glimpse of the Davy Mountain. The window is closing faster than I have ever seen before.

Bleeding Heart

Forstythia - yellow bells - are almost gone.

A EVENING OF ART AND POETRY

COME CELEBRATE NATIONAL POETRY MONTH

6:30 April 6, 2010 EVENING OF ART AND POETRY

AT Hayesville High School Lecture Hall, Hayesville, NC

sponsored by the Clay County Arts Council with a

poetry reading by the contest judge Glenda Beall.

Open to the public.