When you're  15 and in love, there is a lot we're prepared for,
Forever tinted with a slight blush,  
The mind pivoting around a single constant,
A place we call home.
When you're 15 and you say forever,  
Your heart wells up at the idea of it,
Elaborate plans seem sane,
The horizon seems welcoming,
Accompanied by warmth, a sense of belonging,
The sun forever rising on what seems like a supposed eternity,
When you're 15 and you make promises,
You swear to yourself that you'll keep them,
While somewhere deep inside, a subconscious laughs,
And the supposed naïveté ,
The lingering doubt.  
When you're 15 and in love, it's so easy to believe,
Almost like we're waiting to believe,
In someone, in something , that finally makes us feel alive.
But when you're 15 and in love,
There's so much youre not prepared yourself,
Not equipped for a day, we both simply cease to exist,
Not prepared for an eventuality where we no longer fall back,
On the quiet solace of companionship,
When you're  15 and in love,
You're not prepared for your heart finally feeling like an *****,
Void of feelings,
And not an emotion.
Reduced to the mere act of pumping blood,
Unable to pump away the moments, filter away the pain,
You're not prepared for your lungs feeling arbitrary,
The mere act of breathing, reduced to existing,
Inhaling in a plethora of unfamiliar scents,
Reeking of disappointment and broken hearts,
The lungs expanding under the weight of our inhibitions,
Gasping for air with a feverish desire.
When you're 15 and in love,
You're not sure how,
To erase the memories,
Of something that has probably never been there,
Of something that has existed within the mere folds,
Of your heart, tucked amidst the other broken desires, unfulfilled dreams,
That never took flight, and never will,
When you're 15 and in love, you know this would end,
But never quite prepared for how,
When you're 15 and in love we never quite knew,
How it'd be,
To be 15 and not in love.

Strange music
from the wayside shrine
wind
the wind at prayer
'tis in the mind
creative brain
mankind 

Belief in devils
gods and kings
all kinds of things
mankind

Dare devil deeds
and sudden wars
misunderstandings
mankind

Polluted forests
human waste
fills all the waterways
rots vegetation
blind
mankind

Dreamed Utopias
when our earth is one
soon to be gone
mankind                                  

Margaret Ann Waddicor 19th May 2013.

Snowy sentiments silted up
the soft sediment of my senses,
sifting silently my dreams
of sensitive seduction,
solely to send my thoughts to shores
with coloured sands and stunning steep sights
with sweeps of sea, that swell so high
the sun scintillates the surface spray
shimmering and shining,
spreading over the horizon,
as the soughing of the wind swings seagulls,
swooping serenely southwards,
past the slabbery seashells
and slap-happy waves that swish up the beach,
soporifically smudging seaweeds
against the sleeping surface
of the smooth glacial rocks,  
spattering silky foam in spots
of saffron-tinted shapes, over their structures,
surreptitiously sinking into the saline cracks.

Margaret Ann Waddicor February 2013.

We are the elements toys 
played with by the will of the winds 
our seasons come and go as theirs do 
we are fruitful in youth
matured in old age 
sometimes we fall too soon 
before we're ripe 
at other times we rot on the tree

we have almost as much say in the matter 
as an apple 
our very nature 
governing much of what happens to us 
freak meetings 
from them develop blights or flights of fancy 
swinging with the patterns of the seasons 
fixed in the mud of convention 

unless we're free 
free of the world's moral codes 
yet keeping to those of worth 
existing as best we can under the heavens 
on this beautiful crust of earth 
until we meld into 
and become again 
a part of its make up 
in harmony with its ecosystem

Margaret Ann Waddicor 15th September 2015

Revolving, evolving
this earth its changing coat
a flower

Let's oftener talk of noble deeds
and rarer of the bad ones,
and sing about our happy days
and not about the sad ones.
We are not made to fret and sigh,
and when grief sleeps, to wake it,
bright happiness is standing by
this life is what we make it.

Let's find the sunny side of men.
Or be believer in it
a light there is in every soul
that takes the pains to win it,
Oh; there is slumbering good in all,
and we perchance may wake it.
Our hands contain the magic wand,
this life is what we make it.

Then here's to those whose loving hearts
shed light and joy about them
thanks to them for countless gems
we ne'er had known without them:
Oh; this should be a happy world,
to all who may partake it.
The fault's our own if it is not
this life is what we make it.

On this day
We share the notion
That a Child
Born long ago,
Called us home
To live as children;
We hear our name,
We're not alone.

          Gather round,
          Sit at our table;
          Stretch your arms
          Increase, expand.
          Bless our children,
          Bless our parents,
          Count our Blessings
          While we can.

For today
We share believing
That the Child
From long ago,
Called us home
We are the children,
We heard our names,
Never alone.

          Gather round,
          Sit at our table,
          Stretch your arms,
          Increase, expand;
          Bless your children,
          Bless your parents,
          Count your Blessings
          While you can.

Borne on the promise
Of a notion,
On the promise
Of a seat;
By our Love
And our Devotion
To the Living Son,
Our Living Feast.