Poems From the Past

Lake Chatuge and the mountains beyond

A poem I wrote years ago when I first moved to the mountains of western North Carolina. I was enthralled with the beauty everywhere I looked. But surprised at the beauty beneath the obvious mountains and lake.

Beneath the Beauty 

Distant traffic on highway sixty-four

whispers of moving, fast-lane life, 

heading to the city. Up here on the ridge,

turning leaves blow, madly dance

in silhouette against the autumn sky. 

Wind-pushed clouds on distant peaks 

undulate like a snowy mountain river.

Honking geese interrupt my reverie. 

Over Lake Chatuge, the feathered V 

flies away from me and from the relic

rusting in the ravine, dismissed after

being pillaged for parts, lying like a 

corpse, flesh decayed, and left here 

to harbor field mice and to trellis

climbing vines with small blue flowers.

                ... Glenda C. Beall

I love blackberries and eat them often when I find them in the grocery store. Mother made the best blackberry jelly and a wonderful cobbler with the berries. But I did not like to pick them.

Blackberry Patch

by Glenda C. Beall

Mother's voice rises above my bawling.

"Stop pitching a fit and get your bucket."

I plant myself on the top step

bare feet refusing to move.

My dread lies coiled deep in the brambles.

He slithered out when I thrust my hand

in to grab a plump one.

Fear-prickled, I danced in terror,

then streaked home, screaming.

An ominous cloud shadows the sky.

Fat raindrops plop in the yard dust.

Reprieve. Blessed reprieve.

        published in Now Might as Well be Then, 2009