Homeland Honah Lee (WC)

 

(Wendy Cabell, published in Writers At Play Presents: Our Legacy, edited by Daisy Barrett-Nash, Equal Arts, 2022. From July 20, 2010, feast day of the Chukhloma Icon of the Mother of God, of Saint Elijah the Prophet, Saint Elswith (wife of King Alfred the Great, Saint Edburga of Caistor, Blessed Rita Josefa Pujalte y Sanchez, and Righteous Martyr Maria Skobtsoba. Image above is Saint Margaret of Antioch, from a 14th century Book of Hours, from here.)

Homeland Honah Lee 

(after Puff the Magic Dragon (Leonard Lipton, Peter Yarrow); and inspired by the life of Saint Margaret of Antioch)*

The daughter of a pagan priest, Margaret converted to Christianity [and soon was] tortured and thrown into prison. Whilst there [she] was swallowed by [a] dragon, but emerged from his side unscathed and carrying a Cross after praying for aid. --from Medieval Manuscripts Blog

 

Oh, Puff the Magic Dragon, how'd he come to be?

Swallowed down Saint Margaret crowned, but the Cross set them both free.

Moonlit nights still find them ushering at sea,

Till mist parts through and heart beats new on the shores of Honah Lee.

Childhood turns lucky, with protector Puff. 

He knows the ways to brighter days when the going gets too rough.

Where sunsets melt like ice cream, heart sets to glow,

And with the tide moonbeams to ride, so changed now the below. 

Oh, Puff the Magic Dragon, how'd he come to be?

Swallowed down Saint Margaret crowned, but the Cross set them both free.

Moonlit nights still find them ushering at sea,

Till mist parts through and heart beats new on the shores of Honah Lee.

Brushed by rainbow breezes, a fragile heart can sway,

In ship’s sweet ease through Heaven's seas, rig-ready to this day.

Course she veers is steady, steering wheel it gleams,

For travelin' the bandwagon through each generation's dreams.

I never did have children, as Puff so sagely notes,

"Where's the child with longing wild to sail my magic boats?"

At a loss this leaves me, don't know what to do.

Till see that page is too a stage--and torch gets passed to you.

Oh, Puff the Magic Dragon, how'd he come to be?

Swallowed down Saint Margaret crowned, but the Cross set them both free.

Moonlit nights still find them ushering at sea,

Till mist parts through and heart beats new on the shores of Honah Lee.

*"You know the famous 'lion and lamb' imagery. There's an old discussion in rabbinic writings (based on verses from the prophets) as to whether wild and dangerous beasts will be eradicated when Moshiach comes, or only that their dangerous traits will be transformed. Puff...takes the latter approach."--from here.

**From prompt: "Music we love is part of the legacy we build”, so choose a favorite song from your past. Note favorite lines of the song. Freewrite on memories and emotions the song evokes, on verbs stemming from such memories and emotions, on personifying something about your song as close friend or family. Craft what stands out from your freewriting into a poem, perhaps using a verse from your song's lyrics as the refrain of a Bop style poem, and/or putting bits of the lyrics interspersed in the poem in parenthesis. From Daisy Barrett-Nash’s Legacy Poetry of July 7, 14, and 21, 2021.

Shop of Lost and Found (WC)

 

(Wendy Cabell, July 11, 2021, feast day of Rzhevsk Icon of the Mother of God, of above Saint Benedict, of Saint Euphemia and of Saint Olga. Image is Saint Benedict Making His Nurse's Broken Sieve Whole, from here.)

Shop of Lost and Found

Shaky, I know how things can get. Watch that richter 

scale. Though you can't lose your innocence like they

say. Stupid saying. No, it's nestled 

                         deep, 

                            deep down. Wedged 

by memories of seasides and mother's milk. In dolls' 

dresses and cats' fur and chocolate chip shakes. And 

upping the stakes, in this pulse. This breath. This room, 

(really?), this ground (really). This doorway 

for finding what was 

never lost. 

*From prompt: freewrite as inspired by a lost object that comes to mind after hearing Lucia Perillo's poem Found Object; from Lisa Freedman's Breathe/Read/Write, July 11, 2021.

American Venice (WC)

   

(Wendy Cabell, published in Writers At Play Presents: Our Legacy, edited by Daisy Barrett-Nash, Equal Arts, 2022. Also published in Writers at Play Presents: The Art of Letter Writing, edited by Daisy Barrett-Nash, Equal Arts, 2023. From July 4, 2021, Independence Day, and feast day of the Galatea Icon of the Mother of God, and the Synaxis of the Saints of North America. Image from here.)

American Venice

(memories of Venice Beach, California, 1990's)

They say L.A.'s a rough place. But on these

waters, it's gentle here. Edged between an

army and a Saint,

       (map reads: between Marina del Ray

        and Santa Monica; history reads: the 

        Pacific's little Venice; heart reads: you've 

        made it, sanctuary.) So relax,

let the breeze

wash you through. Skate or swim. Have a smoothie.

Sun it breathes, so you can too. And if it doesn't flow,

just let it go.

Over here now, you can settle. My spot, turned

yours too. Where sand branches right, rocks curve

in. Seat for moonsets, sun rising again. Ice cream 

picnics. Page-turner immersions. Till leave all as toes 

splash wave. Waters whoosh, salt its spray, so

relax. Chill if you will. Because it's not as rough

as they say it is. On these waters, it's gentle here.

Guess that's why it slips away now, weight of soul.

Don't know how it is salt does it. Perhaps the

dolphins assist. Glide. Mother Mary

by their side,

       by Synagogue at beach edge,

       by sidewalk artisans and their wares.

       It takes so many forms, our prayers. Till

       joy's the thing in the end. Everything else just

       pretend. Joy that's pure, kind. So the rest, well,

never mind. And then life's not quite as rough

as they say it is. On these waters,

it's gentle

here.

*From combined prompts: Freewrite about a favorite place: local expressions, ways you might describe the place to someone, things perhaps only you notice here, things the place brings out in you or allows you to do, things you have learned about the place. Weave into a poem in progress. Underline what stands out to you, lines that are striking, good sensory detail. Rewrite lines by devices such as: giving further or deeper sensory detail, incorporating metaphors/similes, using repetition of words or phrases. List questions/mysteries about the place, and in the poem answer them (without listing the questions themselves). From Daisy Barrett-Nash's Legacy Poetry, June 23 and June 30, 2021.