THIS POET
How would you describe a poet? Like this?
Margaret Roxby was an award-winning poet published internationally in poetry magazines and anthologies, in addition to her two chapbooks, Glass Rain, Golden Rain and Medley. She was a fellow with the World Poetry Society International, local chapter board member of the National League of American Pen Women, and active in the California Federation of Chapparal Poets. She was included in the World Who’s Who of Women, Yearbook of Modern Poetry (1971), and International Who’s Who in Poetry (1971-1973). Margaret was often requested to speak on poetry and to present book reviews to local organizations. Her favorite quote was, “God, you have been good to me. You gave me a love of poetry.”
Margaret also dabbled in prose publishing articles in the Sunday supplement for the Long Beach Independent-Press Telegram newspaper, Los Fierros, a publication of the Los Cerritos Docents. She had a long running column for LBCC General Adult Division newsletter. She authored several more articles, short stories and a science fiction novel.
Margaret was a native of West Virginia where she worked through the 1930’s depression as a typist/clerk typing 200+ wpm. After marriage and the start of WW2, she moved with her husband to Long Beach, California where she worked several years as a secretary. Margaret served several years as a Camp Fire Girls leader and was elected the area’s PTA representative to the state-wide convention. When her son was ready for pre-school, she enrolled in LB City College studying psychology and later creative writing with Alice Wright, founder of a popular, long-running writers’ conference hosted in Long Beach.
How would you describe a poet? Like this?
The carnival of time universe-vast dazzles and entices with its brilliant stars and multifarious mysteries….
Remember places or a time before cell phones? “The long high wires swing, sing in the wind, but….”
…There’s the strum of singing strings and through the mist of shade and sound a dove with folded wings….
The author writes of what we all witness in nature.
What do you envision as unexplored land?
…while my faint heart with wounded wings….
…my mind and heart, (the eyes of my searching) peer into the shadows of the wings….
The little widow with her head held high determined to be brave….
…bright faces (miniature suns with yearning eyes) peered into the windows….