GLASS RAIN – poetry by Margaret Roxby

“MY NAME IS AUGUST” was found among the author’s papers and may have been the result of a writing challenge at her local chapter of Chapparel Poets.

REFRACTIONS – poetry by Robert Roxby

“SIS,” could be written about any of the author’s four sisters, but as it was written late in the author’s life is probably about the youngest, Dorothy (Dot) who was the last to die.  This poem is included in his collection Reflections on a Lifetime. It is included this week for August 7, National Sisters Day.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS – poetry by Kathleen Roxby

“SPELLING LIFE”is included this week for August 9, National Book Lovers Day. The poem expresses the author’s view of the value of the written word.

 

 

Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.

Guidelines for submission:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

  1. We are two-thirds of the of the way through this year and World Never Give Up Day pops up on the calendar, but also National Kiss and Make-up Day.
    1. Do these two days have the same goal or not? Take and stance and defend it.
    2. Which of these two days speaks most strongly to you? Why? Tell the world.
  2. National Just Because Day and National Beach Day are in the month of August.
    1. Do these two days seem to belong together to you or would you argue not? Tell us.
    2. Pick one of these days and write a poem in praise of the occasion.
  3. National Senior Citizens Day occurs in August. Write a tribute to a senior citizen you know or knew.
  4. During the hot, often muggy days of August, do you envy the birds in flight, people flying off to cooler places? Share your dreams as a poem or in prose.

 

I walk across the land

Greeting one and all as we meet

As cousins, nephews or siblings,

Not by blood but by mutual choice:

Sharing dreams and common goals

With someone of a mutual love.

Sometimes, they have faces—

Pink, brown, sunburned, pallid, smooth.

Body shapes come thin, thick, tall, short,

Also in some strange combinations.

Oh, Cousins, Nephews, Brothers, Sisters,

May I never lose my humility in you.

 

#uninternationaldayoffriendship

 

Behind the scenes she pleaded…

I’m tired, so tired.

I want to go home

Someplace, someplace to rest.

I want someone,

Just someone

Somewhere to care.

 

Dear lost Judy.

I hope you made it

“where birds fly

over the rainbow”

Into that other far-away sky.

She is sad.

 

What should we do?

 

Why take her out, of course,

 

Oh, yes.  We should all send invitations out

To gather her friends about.

 

We should take her out

To someplace where there’s a crowd.

 

But that makes it all so public.

My son locks himself away when he is sad

And refuses to speak to anyone.

 

But she will want to talk it out, you see,

For she is like a bird that flies from flower to flower,

Leaving a life dusting of pollen behind,

As it tips the night’s dew into the flower’s center.

 

Are you sure?

 

I do know what I am talking about.

 

But shouldn’t we let her know

That it’s all right to laugh again, and

That there is still loving and kindness?

 

Of course we should.  We must help her

To find many, many ears to listen—

Even strangers will do…

 

Not with people who cannot know…oh, no.

 

Of course we should.

And when our ears grow weary,

We should take her out

To where the bright lights are

And sunshine and a crowd.

 

Oh, I see now.  When she is sad,

We should take her out

To where there is a crowd.

 

 

 

#girlfriendsday

 

 

 

 

 

GLASS RAIN—the poetry of Margaret Roxby

“FOR JUDY WHO WANTED TO GO HOME” was found in the poet’s papers. It is included for July 31, UN International Day Of Friendship. The poem was written on the back of flyer for California Repertory Company’s production of Judy written by Howard Burman and produced at CSULB in 1992.

REFRACTIONS—the poetry of Robert Roxby

“MY SURPRISE FAMILY,” expresses the author’s strong love of his country and for humanity in general. It is included this week for July 31, UN International Day Of Friendship.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby

“WHEN SHE IS SAD,” is an imagined conversation, but based on something similar she once overheard when visiting a house in mourning. It is included this week for August 1, Girlfriends Day.

Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.

Guidelines for submission:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

As the firelight burns low, I hear them—

Their harmonicas humming, soft voices

Singing of long lost loves,

Or newfound in a flame red glow.

As I walk by the old stone church,

Their hymns of praise roll out

Like thunder on the hills at night.

Far distant, a sound like jewels sparkling:

Voices that grow slowly higher as I walk.

Glorious tenors, baritones caress

As sopranos and mezzos strike the harp

At the concert hall. I cry out loud—

Oh, America! Your hosts awake the Earth

When you sing of your past, your future,

But most of all when you sing

Out of sheer pleasure in the music.

 

 

 

 

 

She dreamed; Carlota dreamed

In the garden, she dreamed

Of the far-off world she had known

Not long ago

 

A world, her native world

The old, established world

Where kings she knew and queens she knew

Still lived and reigned.