Ladybug Lodge Poetry

Thursday, March 19, 2026

As We Are... a poem by Anne Selden Annab

As We Are

Can't we just be pretty

as we are- and comfortable too

with

clean faces,

soft hair,

loose clothes

(easy to wash and wear clothes)

good shoes, good shoes where toes

can wiggle,

or bare feet...

Can't we just be

low maintenance-

saving our money for books,

and stockpiling time for enjoying

art

each other

or the great outdoors

in every mood & weather

watching

& walking

listening to bird song...

Feeling the wind in our hair

and under their wings.

Monday, March 31, 2025

Cherry Blossoms ... a poem by Anne Selden Annab

Cherry Blossoms- Washington DC

Cherry Blossoms

There is an invasive bloom

of beauty

boughs and boughs

of beauty

brought as a gift,

a bribe

of beauty

from

a friend

who later turned into an enemy

then turned into a friend again

and again and again

renewing every Spring

simply the gift

of beauty

and diplomacy.

Gentle words and deeds.

Respect for others.

Be kind, be good,

be better than war

be stronger than violence

be longer than memory

& wiser than history.

Thursday, March 6, 2025

Moon Cradle poem by Anne Selden Annab

Moon cradle

slung low

in the sky

as if to sway.

My hopes

nestle there

as night comes

and dreams.

Monday, March 20, 2023

To Mulch

Late February

in our front hall

I reach for,

touch

the dried leaf

on the wood floor

fully expecting to pluck up

a lovely lacy leaf right before

it floats away.

But that light lacy leaf

about to waft away

rebels- crumbles ... mud

from a boot tread

now dust

on my finger tips.

Thursday, May 13, 2021

Alone, an Iris Poem by Anne Selden Annab

Alone

She fully bloomed

at night, long before

dawn. No sun,

no light,

or warmth.

No script.

No audience

to unfurl her beauty

to or for...

She is iris

in our garden,

ink on a page,

She is poem.

Thursday, October 29, 2020

An October Rainstorm Poem by Anne Selden Annab

No dance,

just drop:

Leaves fall faster

in the rain.

Drenched and sopping

heavy with wet

immune to breeze

and waft

Pulled

straight

down

(or sideways

down)

to earth

no shuffle, no scurry, no dither, no dilly-dally- just tree then land.

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

Twenty Twenty a New Year Poem by Anne Selden Annab

Silver sunrise
for twenty twenty

Sky mist swirls
into distinct shapes.

Blue skies now silhouette tall trees-
trunks, branches, twigs...

with birds that sing as our sky decides
to (momentarily) be a thunderous dark grey

Only long enough to crystallize
a scattering of celebratory snow flurry

Monday, November 16, 2015

A Secret Sparkle

A Secret Sparkle

There is a secret sparkle
to quicken soon
into life
into a living thing
nudging.

A knowledge of change
starts with a startled blink.

A knowledge of loss
limits who might be told
for now, briefly, as science brews
a human being.

All the while small details
become more and more real
as thoughts stir and curiosity
takes hold.

What color will her eyes be
and her hair- will it curl,
will it glint in the sun.

Who will her features echo
as time folds touching ancestors
and marriages and mingling
reaching back into forever.

Will she have my grandmother's
hazel eyes, or my daughter's
dark brown
or my dad's deep cerulean,
or her father's green grey blue.

A small speck
a sparkle, if luck holds,
a secret soon to swell
into wonderfully obvious
and alive- and adorable.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

The Architect's Garden

The Architect's Garden

Purpley blue geranium
by the round stone terrace
by the house
in the back garden
watched
by a blue eyed cat.

From far above the garden shape
would be an open door.

Tall stucco garden walls with barely
visible vertical apertures for air
and a long low horizontal gap
giving small creatures
bunny, chipmunk, bird
incentive to come and go
gleaning beauty.

Only the back garden gate
seals tight, and the house
with its many windows
and that bright blue eyed cat
purrs as Elsie Louise
in the lightest blue
entertains.

She is sky
with a lion's mane
still gold in the right light.
An old stone farmhouse
and thousands of good books
built who she is now
transplanted to town
perfecting summer
on a teacher's salary.

poem copyright ©2015 Anne Selden Annab

Friday, July 11, 2014

Trust ... a poem

Trust ...a poem

Poems remind us
that meaning
is not locked in place.

It takes listening
to write, and listening
to read... remembering.

Each word has a history
creating a now with all
that has been
and all that might be.

Context changes
with mood, and the way
light hits the page...

[Do you see the same illustration I do
from King Arthur's court?]

A poem's interpretation is at all times
momentary.

A kaleidoscope capture
of personal experience...

Pebbles moving in a mountain stream
of cold fresh water, pebbles
tumbling into polished
glimmering treasure,
but only for one who
notices and reflects

with human warmth
and connection.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Dawdling

Dawdling

Delayed day break
in the dim and blur
of snow fall
at dawn...

Grey tones
patterned
with crystals.

Pause.

Eventually
snow clouds lighten
lifting allowing

radiant
gleam.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Adding Spice to Life

Adding Spice to Life

On the day you were born,
sweet Basil,
deer were in the woods
watching us slow down.

On the day you were born,
sweet Basil,
a large flock of geese
floated on the creek.

On the day you were born,
sweet Basil,
we saw a mallard and his mate
and a merganser.

On the day you were born,
sweet Basil,
Your older brother had
garlicky hummus on pita for lunch

with slices of cucumber.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Christmas Is

Christmas Is

Christmas is in the lights
and the songs and the stories
and the gifts we give
& the cookies we make
and share...

Christmas is in every kitten
every card, every note
every newly born baby...

Every child loved
every memory cherished.

Every falling in love
... every newlywed
every anniversary...

It is in every Advent
all purple and pink
and then heavenly blue skies
white snow- green fragrant pines
red bows.

It is apron pockets
and ruffles and recipes
with cinnamon spice
and warm apple cider
and gatherings
in and out of the kitchen

Christmas is in every tree
and the journey from seedling to here
in all homes...

And outside

it is in distant bells ringing
a train whistle blowing
geese honking
and me

loving Christmas.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Elevations

Elevations

Moon fall
drops
into my early morning window

A full moon
porthole of light

lifting me
from my chair

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Rustling

Rustling

Leave openings
for letters...
Slots in doors.
Boxes on streets.
Time in a day...

Leave openings
for letters,
letting minds
probe words...
as leaves play
lingering.

Pages and pages
of paper printed once
and reread ad infinitum
as echoes of memory
recall thoughts
& languages
to pontificate

as leaves play
lingering.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

My November

My November

An autumn errand
on a blue sky day
is the sound of leaves
and the sight of trees
ablaze - Sun Gold
Bronze Bright Red
Apricot Orange
Russet Brown all bringing out
airy tunnels of tree reach...
curving into glorious glorious
glorious gold all around
A treasury of ethereal
with late afternoon light.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Transport

Transport

I did not see
until later
how he took stones
and tumbled them
with boulders of light
plunging though the trees
rumbling his truck
on the hillside
through patches of grass
and shale and clover

This & That

This & That (morning glories & mirabilis)

This & That

Self seeding
morning glories
& mirabilis
(four o'clocks)

Planted years ago
near the locked door
to compliment
the day- in turn
to have bloom
before and after noon

Year by year

From my wrought iron chair
I watch a moment here- a moment there
this and that...

Verdant green leaf inching
from miniscule to wide
tone by tone shifting
plant by plant
week by week to give
our slow summer shape
mounding air and light
into an assemblage

of eventual blossom

and humming bird pause
for favored flowers

Iridescence
adding blue to red
(yellow orange gold)
to purple to deep pink
as vines found stems
to twirl
to pull up
and over

tangling time
into now.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Enjoying the Day

photo credit Jameelah Arcila

Enjoying the Day

Jameelah's daughter Anna
has a pink unicorn,
a soft pink unicorn
with purple feet
posed
here and there
in Bruges

Cobbled streets
and flower boxes
cupped by art

echoing
medieval times
and tapestries
and tourism
as in Canterbury Tales.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Cost Shifting

Cost Shifting

Paying bills
Save a post office-
not a stamp

Paper's footprint
is a forest planted
leaves rustling... step
past the catch phrase
to save a tree

Save a landscape
and a paper bag
save recycling

Lower electric bills
and elevate human contact
connections- jobs...

Tally up multiple computers
Include data plans and clouds
add in hackers and spyware
and virus detectors
and spam

Save a post office-
not a stamp.