(At the Gate to Toyland)

 

I am meeting Johnny today

and together we shall play

until others call us away.

 

I shall bring a picnic lunch,

He will bring the games,

and we shall meet

between the border gates.

 

When the afternoon is spent

in games and laughter

and tall tales,

Johnny will return

to a land where I may not go.

 

I will take my picnic basket,

now empty, back to my home

where Johnny may, someday, come

when many long days have passed

and I am grown old

and Johnny no longer young.

 

But for now

we can meet each other here

on this small space of earth

that each and neither country claims.

 

And for this little while,

in this unruled place

between the border gates

Johnny and I shall play

till we are called away.

 

 

#internationalyadayadaday

 

 

 

 

 

GLASS RAIN—the poetry of Margaret Roxby

“CARLOTA OF BELGIUM AND MEXICO” was found in the poet’s papers. It is included for July 22, National Hammock Day.

REFRACTIONS—the poetry of Robert Roxby

“SUMMER STROLL,” first appeared in the author’s collection, Reflections on a Lifetime.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby

“BETWEEN BORDERS (At the Gate to Toyland),” is included this week for July 23, International Yada Yada Day. The circumstance of a “space” between borders that is special comes from the mind of the author when she was still a child and riding with her parents past the sign marking the edge of one of the United States and traveling some distance before encountering the sign marking the entrance to the neighboring state.

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.

 

Cries of hatred rend the air to shreds

As foolish young ones destroy their peers—

Gangs claiming a right to own this street,

Misunderstanding the lightning bolts of death.

Whose life will end before morning comes?

What dreams will disappear before night ends?

Is your child on the hit list this time?

Which family will be moaning low tomorrow,

While children hide away in sheer fright

And sirens wail and red lights flash this night?

Our streets will be awash in blood

And your city will never be quite the same.

 

 

#worlddayforinternationaljustice

 

 

For those of us condemned to dream

Behind invisible walls

And every little wish and half-formed hope

Like will-o-wisps blow

Willy-nilly far away

With every errant breeze

In this mock-celeb world

Where any random moment

May stream a flicker of acclaim

Meteor-like across the world,

How difficult must be the afterwards

Of a long life for an ever wannabe

Who remains only a once-was?

 

What pain comes from unrealized

Dreams in that long life outside

The clamor and light?

 

What anger comes with the permanence

Of an error reported and remembered

Merely for its wrongness

Though each ripple of memory

Tortures the scars left behind?

 

What anguish comes with the echoes

Of destruction reverberating

Interrupting the otherwise unremarkable.

 

Repeating every hour, then day after day

Into yearly anniversaries,

Pinpointed in every decade forever,

‘Lest we forget’—

As if the witnesses and victims

Every could?

 

 

#tossawaythecouldhaveshouldhavesday

 

 

 

 

 

GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby

“BEHIND INVISIBLE WALLS” was found in the poet’s papers. It is included for July 20, Toss Away The Could Haves And Should Haves Day.

REFRACTIONS— by Robert Roxby

In “STREET RITES,” the poet expresses his concerns about the dangers of street gang violence. The poem is included this week for July 17, World Day for International Justice.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby

“AFTER THE TELE-FLICKER OF FAME,” was triggered on one of those occasions when newscasters revisit events once in the news. It is included this week for July 20, Toss Away The Could Haves And Should Haves 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.

 

It is morning.

I’m still alive.

One more chance

To escape this.

I remember, vaguely,

Being accepted

By society—now,

Doors are closed.

Everyone turns away.

Whatever I do,

It’s rejected.

My skin reeks of fear,

I am wet

With the perspiration

Of despair.

Tell, if you know,

Am I already

Condemned?

I’m still me,

Here, inside—

Can’t you see?

Unless you help,

I shall remain

Without a home.

 

 

 

#cheerupthelonelyday

 

 

Fragile word

That vanished

Like blown smoke

From the street scene

 

Are you lost now

Gone behind the wall?

 

All the frightened eyes

That turned to see you go

And did not move

One step to stop the going.