Sad to say some folk are denied the joy of poetry. Bad teaching at school made it punishment, not pleasure, and they loathe it with a passion. I’m lucky to have always enjoyed reading –and writing – it, ever on the quest to improve. Like many of my fellow enthusiasts, we workshop our efforts and send them off to small poetry journals. This month I feel privileged to have had four of mine printed in ‘Mozzie.’

The poem below was written on a day out , near Bath, south-west England when a peaceful drive suddenly took on a turn for the worse. The driver little knew he had a back-seat poet on the lookout for material!


his aristocratic confidence knows
no bounds   some call it noble
arrogance    that self-satisfaction

regardless of achievements
or knowledge of the route
and don’t remind him how he

reacts  that tell-tale
blink     blink      blink
of a man   under stress

road barrier    change
direction     the problem
becomes entirely hers

he screams why didn’t you tell me
to take the side road?

This one was written one foggy morning in Bath.

the sky and hills are gone
this morning   someone
stole them overnight

even the trees are missing
streets and houses shiver
beyond that curtain
of white

it gives me the scares
will i be next?

With rising costs of child-care, and unaffordable housing, many grandparents find themselves as regular babysitters, at a time when they might have hoped for some free time to indulge their hobbies and passions. Others take up the task when their children can’t manage the parental role. But, sadly, there are some who don’t get the chance to interact with their grandchildren at all.

huge distress   denied access
to my grandson   if i can’t
hope   what’s the point?

yearning for that knock on the door
if I was wrong  can’t I be forgiven?
just pick up the phone  and call home

didn’t even know his name until last week
saw his photo on Facebook  i’m aching   to
share secrets    show him the beauty

and magic of  life   i’d cherish his heavy
innocence   asleep in my arms   be joyful
over milestones first tooth  steps  words …

grandparents   conspirators of love
help make their young all they can be

Finally ,a thought  for all those writers – or others -whose efforts in the creative field, fails to meet their goals. All I need is one more lifetime to write that bestseller…

of study and striving   perfection
a distant atoll   glimpsed from my
shingled shore of self-education

i’ve struggled to create the perfect
novel    have my lyrical poems astound
wavelets of hope   foam and groan

around my toes   sand  sinking ‘neath
my feet   tries hard  screeches a seagull
but does not always succeed

very good   mutters a crab   walking sideways
at some things  in the music of air and sea i
know for me  this is the way it’s meant to be

yet nothing can replace the joy of creation
success? Well yes   i’ve done my best


About wraxdec

I've reached the age of flamboyance and bling.I love Classical FM, Jazz, French chansons, French movies, SBS Documentaries and Wednesdays with my Women Writers Critique Group at the NSW Writers Centre.I've published short stories and the occasional article. My novel/'faction on nursing in the 20th Century,' BLACK STOCKINGS WHITE VEIL - A TALE OF ADVERSITY, TRIUMPH AND ROMANCE AT ROYAL PRINCE ALFRED HOSPITAL'- was a Finalist in the 2009 Indie Book Awards. I've critiqued a second fictional family memoir, 'SONGS FROM HEAVEN', and am working through a third, 'GOING HOME'.
This entry was posted in artist, bewildered, character, don't give up, dreams, grief, healing, human desperation, journey, Life, parents, Poetry, Prince, sincerity, Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to ODE TO A LIFE

  1. John Wright says:


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