Is it almost my time, Lord?
For me to come home again?
There are very few tears left.
My children’s eyes tear me apart.
And Joe, my husband, he cries
When he thinks I’m not looking.
The flour is almost gone—bad, too.
Only ten potatoes left. No money.
The car broke down again, here.
Can Joe fix it one more time?
Where will we get gas money now?
Can’t even find any greens to pick
In this land so arid and dry.
How much longer, Lord, how much?
Will you help my children, my Joe
To make it to Californey way?
Give them a chance, Lord. They need it.
It’s been a long, tiring dreary trip.
Whatever you say, Lord, but please
Could you ease my children’s way?
I feel so terribly tired now.
Ohh…Joe, please don’t cry again.
#worldrefugeeday
YOUR FAVORED POLITICO
Vote for me this time.
I will listen to your rhyme,
Forgive any of your mistakes,
Send you a birthday cake,
Collect all the taxes,
Send you some cloth sacks
To cover your nakedness.
unpublicserviceday
A MYSTERY
There seem to be not accidents
future or past
but ordered stitches
in life’s tapestry
Strange and beautiful the mystery:
that our paths would cross
according to some time-right plan
and we would meet
in the silver light
of that special hour
when unicorns come out to play
on a moonlit, starlit way.
TWO PHOTOGRAPHS SIDE BY SIDE
When he won his wings
The air force took his photograph
His hair evenly dark
Against the pale background
The pose catching the slow and easy smile
His sister knew so well,
His lips still soft with youth
And the promise of tomorrow
His eyes shining
Like wingtips touched by the sun.
He was so proud
He had won his dream.
Was it a year or a little more
Before the next photo came?
The camera recording
His promotion to captain.
Another proud moment.
Yet his sister cried when it arrived
For his hair was brushed with gray.
His lips so straight and tightly held,
His eyes dark shadows
That carried no memory
Of joyful, quick laughter.
Two photographs side by side
A war in between
Two photographs side by side
Beside them where they sat
His sister’s broken heart
#cameraday
AUTHOR NOTES
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
“A MYSTERY,” was sent to the author’s Round Robin friends in 1989. It is included this week in honor of June 24 International Fairy Day because as we all know fairies are companions of unicorns.
REFRACTIONS—a poem by Robert Roxby
“YOUR FAVORED POLITICO” was first published in the author’s collection, “Reflections on a Lifetime.” It is included this week for June 23, UN Public Service Day. The author himself as a retiree became quite active in local politics: registering voters, championing affordable housing and senior citizen concerns in his adopted city of Long Beach, California. He was well respected by the local elected officials and on his death a tribute appeared in their records of that week.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“TWO PHOTOGRAPHS SIDE BY SIDE” is included this week for June 29 Camera Day. The photo pair described sat on the bedroom chest belonging to her grandmother and were of a WW2 Air Force pilot—the author’s uncle. Her Uncle Bill who always dreamed of flying was studying for his pilot’s license when the United States entered WW2. The first photo reflected his successful and happy graduation with his flying license. The second, taken soon after when he rose in rank, reflected a man who had seen the devastation of Pearl Harbor and who had flown bombing raids in Europe.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
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:
SPLINTERS FOR JUNE 2024
DUST BOWL REFUGEE
Is it almost my time, Lord?
For me to come home again?
There are very few tears left.
My children’s eyes tear me apart.
And Joe, my husband, he cries
When he thinks I’m not looking.
The flour is almost gone—bad, too.
Only ten potatoes left. No money.
The car broke down again, here.
Can Joe fix it one more time?
Where will we get gas money now?
Can’t even find any greens to pick
In this land so arid and dry.
How much longer, Lord, how much?
Will you help my children, my Joe
To make it to Californey way?
Give them a chance, Lord. They need it.
It’s been a long, tiring dreary trip.
Whatever you say, Lord, but please
Could you ease my children’s way?
I feel so terribly tired now.
Ohh…Joe, please don’t cry again.
#worldrefugeeday
TRAVELER’S REQUEST
Pray do not judge us
By our tattered garb
These boots so bruised
These cloaks so worn
The way was long and hard
We are much wearied
And fain would rest.
#unrefugeeday
BLUES LYRIC
(ala Bessie Smith, unfinished)
So, here I am once again
Digging in the dirt
Dragging my sorry butt
Down in the same old rut.
Done lost my way
In a world of hurt.
I thought this time
You would be true.
But here I am alone and blue.
I thought I’d learned better
Until your returning letter.
Yet, here I am once again
Digging in the dirt
Dragging my sorry butt
Down in the same old rut.
#makemusicday
AUTHOR NOTES
GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby
“TRAVELERS REQUEST,” is a title not supplied by the author. This selection was found among the author’s loose papers without title. It may reflect her memories from the 1930s Depression when many out of work people walked from place to place seeking work and shelter. Then, too, during her lifetime in West Virginia many European refugees arrived fleeing the poverty and armed conflicts there. It is included this week for June 20, UN World Refugee Day.
REFRACTIONS—a poem by Robert Roxby
“DUST BOWL REFUGEE” is included this week for June 20, UN World Refugee Day. was first published in the author’s collection, “Reflections on a Lifetime.” The author, like his wife, met many a refugee fleeing the circumstances in Europe leading to WW2. His own father’s family had fled the failing coal mines in England to seek employment in the richer coal fields found in the United States.
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby
“BLUES LYRIC” is the result of a challenge the author received while attending a song writing class. The never fully developed this lyric, but it is included this week for June 21 Make Music Day.