THE HEART MUST WAIT
Who has not dreamed of one day waking to find the lost one at the gate….
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.
Who has not dreamed of one day waking to find the lost one at the gate….
“It is always Tuesday!” The author argues.
…Our firefly summer vanished….
There is a stirring in my soul tonight…
…Hands speak the unspoken the silent questions pile up like uncollected mail…
Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in “Splintered Glass”, may see their work presented here. Will your writing appear here?
Christmas morning, one poet’s memory
…they said: We’re the only ones left we’ve traveled a great distance
and the way was rough we saw the lights in your castle….
…We never knew our hearts….
What do we know of circumstance of falling lights or sunlight’s glance?