Evelyn Macdonald

Who was aged five when I was born
My brother
Who hid my toys and broke my dolls
My brother
...

Blood dripping from the fangs
that bite
Clothed within the dark
of night
...

When I was young and in my prime I took my health for granted
No major ills in middle age I never raved nor ranted
So who decreed that when I reached my so called 'golden years'
A multitude of problems would reduce my life to tears
...

The joys of retirement are simple
you can lie around all day in bed
when the daytime soap operas get boring
pull the covers right over your head
...

Out walking on a fine spring day
I saw you there and turned away
so you could bloom another day
Sweet Daffodil
...

I'm not a poet as one can see
I merely rhyme eloquently
to understand the written prose
I read all words and such as those
...

Falling snow is beautiful
pristine, soft and white
a gentle flowing mantle
reflecting nature's light
...

In Our Father's earthly garden
just like flowers, we all grow
savouring the life force
that we all have come to know
...

Trapped within this aging face
I long so to be free
Reflected in the mirror
A woman, that's not me
...

The temperature keeps soaring
I feel wet from sweat that's pouring
and I'm physically sick from all this sun
If I keep up this perspiring
...

Rain batters on my window pane
collects in puddles deep
and like the ticking of a clock
it lulls me back to sleep
...

Impressionable still at seventeen
and working for a living
years of degradation cloaked
the fine art of forgiving
...

I peek outside my window
it's the middle of the night
awakened by their arguments
I feel I have the right
...

The circus is coming, the circus is coming
the children all echo with glee
the banners are bright, the band is in sight
funny clowns trip and tumble for me
...

I pass this place so many times
but never have gone in
I somehow lack the courage
to confront the death within
...

We move once more in the dead of night
load up the car, drive out of sight
ever mindful the neighbors might
call the landlord & exploit our plight
...

When I was ages three or four
I remember clearly, the man next door
Mister Osborne from Leven town
Lived next door to my Granny Brown
...

There's nothing left to write about
all subjects have been taken
seasons, flowers, lovers, trees,
the weather, eggs 'n bacon
...

I've roamed this wide world over
I've sailed the seven seas
had tea in Indonesia
and fished in Tennessee.
...

What's so hard about saying NO
Spit it out man, let it go
Afraid of hurting friend or foe
Take a stand man, just say NO
...