AS TIME HATH WROUGHT
Jan 31 is National Backward Day. How would you celebrate it?
This poet wrote a verse.
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.
Jan 31 is National Backward Day. How would you celebrate it?
This poet wrote a verse.
My name Tammy Muffett and you don’t know me but I live on your street….
….
I sorrow but I know not what is sorrowed for…
What if we should break a greater barrier, move like light and then….
Remembering the summer rose,….
A time to remember old friends, old days,….
The siren song throbbed from the violin’s throat and the great auditorium misted away….
Do you know Camelot–shining dream of yore the realm of magic remembered in song and lore along the cliffs of Cornwall?
Sunset colorfloats red cloud mists above the awesome deep. Night comes fierce, on panther feet. The distant dark growls closer…closer…
And this is strange: I know. That roseate hue was one time born for just that moment…