"margarets" poems
Like snowdrops they droop their heads,
contemplating brighter days
away from the glare of the acronites'
yellowing purge by the graves around St Margarets.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
The faces at the table change
it’s the flow and ebb of time
we struggle to remember them
and the days of Auld Lang Syne .
The former faces shared our names
We are their blood and line
We gather now in different lands
in a very different time.
Grandfather James, renowned for brains,
played music and sang songs
Great Grandson James, the chemist,
researches to right Cancer’s wrongs.
There were Margarets and Catherines
in that different age and time
I struggle to remember them
different people, different times
Our Ed is a music teacher
who can read and write a score
Their Eddie died a pilot
in that war to end all wars.
My age lacks a Sophia
and I count it quite a loss.
She was a faithful bride of Christ
and wore a simple cross.
There was a Susan and an Agnes
back in the former age
Agnes nursed in wartime London
as above the air war raged.
The faces at the table change
the ranks are thinned with time
We struggle to remember them
and the days of Auld Lang Syne
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 9:00 AM UTC
This is a story of a boy
Which may be a little sad
At the tender age of only eight
Alexander sadly lost his dad
He grew to be a dashing man
And married in twelve sixty one
To Margaret, the daughter of a king
Who tried to bully his in law son
He wanted recognised as an overlord
But Alexander directly refused
Margarets dad did not kick off
But surely his ego was bruised
In twelve sixty two
Alex claimed he owned some land
The Western Isles belonged to him
He decided to take a stand
King Haakon of Norway disputed his claim
And set sail to true form
Alexander prayed for more time
And Haakon was caught in a storm
He died after falling ill
And Alex pressed his case
Haakon's succession to the throne
Did not keep Haakon's pace
(C) Julie Murphy 2015
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC