suitcase rich
and heavy
thick with tapestry bold
laced up with history
weighted with years
with passion
dripping stained in lust

my tears fall upon the handle
when I'm at the middle of the lake
the moon soft and calling
when happier days our
lives did make

much happier now
the burden sinks
and waves ripple
caressing our link

and the witness stars
wink

Memories rise up within me like lively bubbles
Of champagne bursting forth from a just opened bottle.
Daddy’s rich baritone singing “This Little Girl of Mine”
Fingers thrumming along the familiar chords and frets.

Going to the drive in movie for triple feature night
All ready bathed and dressed in pajamas for bed.
Waking to the growl of the engine as we start home.
Sleepily watching the moon follow me
As if it were a giant balloon tethered to my hand.

"SEPIA TINTED"
Margaret Ann Waddicor
5th March 2012.

Memorabilia
illusion
like that of religion
enhanced visions of a past
no longer tangible
we glance at pictures
reminders of our birth
and life now gone
enhance their worth with thought
drag back into the light
the positive
the negative into sight
it colours our presence
with its troubles, joys
but what we have is now
is here

** ** ** **

"KEY TO HEAVENS"

‎"The beauty of subjectivity
Is everybody gains.
It makes the bars of captivity
Decorated window panes.

Going To Loo? No I C U

why do you wish?
To live longer than your time
when ICU's become your home
and
all your savings go down the drain
and
you don't even know
still loved ones hope
that pension will trickle in ,
that's why doctors so many tests begin
and
as their pockets get football fat
they grin
and
then ask why this din?
the time to wind up
does now begin
goodbye to ICU
shall never be ever in.

Sons of a lost song,
Warriors of a strange cause,
Creating rhythm in the clear view of a facepalm,
And as others walk on,
We keep our soul strong,
Because only everyone else around me knows of the battles I’ve won,

And with a swift look back,
Loyalty,
Nobility,
Honor,
And responsibility,
No room for tomfoolery,

Swords drawn,
Head strong,

Battle cry heard from a far distance,
Certainly there will be enemy resistance,

In the recesses of my memories of long ago
I see a man, a selfless man
leaning over a young me that is still full of energy, willing to learn
He leans over, places his finger on a word in the book
And repeats it until I understand and remember it
I remember him, my great grandfather, the hugs, the laughter, the love, and the cheese
He was My Savior

The dark clouds to the east;
the sunshine to the west;
the gentle breeze that hardly trouble the leaves
and the barely felt drizzle;
They all remind of the day you were born;
it’s like all them weather wanted to be the one to welcome you home!

Scattered pieces of glass
upon the ground
Sparkling like diamonds
As if looking at a starry night

Each conveying
a different angle of light
Just as human life might

If only we look deeply
Can we see the brilliance
Shining through so bright

We are as scattered glass
Each emanating our light
In the eyes of another’s sight

We are scattered upon the earth
Without knowing that we’re pieces
Of something larger, that is a whole

How did we get here from so very long ago?
Seems like only yesteryear with faces all aglow.
When I was but a girl and you my handsome beau.
We set out towards the future as if we did not know.
The enormity of changes that we would undergo.

We did not know at the beginning of this innocent romance.
One day we would find ourselves with just a backwards glance.
Here at such an ancient age in just this circumstance.
Yearning for our youth now spent, and for a second chance.
The recollection of our passion now seems a perfect dance.