SECRETS OF THE NASCA PLAINS
Strange were the hands that made them in the brooding sun-gold realm: secrets…
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.
Strange were the hands that made them in the brooding sun-gold realm: secrets…
Dear Poet-Friend:
My poem is lost, or forgotten, or worse yet, not ‘noticed!’
…the story was told to me when I was a child. the story of the song, of the gold-voiced uncle, the sweet tenor-voiced boy….
… PUNISH! MAKE! FIT!….
A poet’s response to Julie Harris’ portrayal of Emily Dickinson.
She pulls away harboring some secret hurt or imagined injury…
It was whispered all through the fairylands that one was coming who was not of them…
…And silent dreams invoke the night…
Messages in myriad, life in suspension from pole to pole but the bell is still….
Have I been here before
In a strange and new land I stood in trance I thought: recuerdo…remembrance….
Have I been here before