A Radiance
[I always idolise my favourite teachers and
adore spiritual masters, look with wonder-
ment on those willing to take time to guide
students to wisdom, those who teach me
Become godly in my eyes if they are masters
of their subject and their shining devotion
keeps my mind from being crushed in the
emotional pitfall of boredom, thank you
To everyone who has taught me through my
life, you lighted a fire in my mind that shall
never die, cannot be quenched by lack of
success or destroyed by failures galore]
I see radiance in your poetic gift which you
received through genetic disposition, you
chose to develop this gift which shows
your excellent taste and orientation
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Dreams of Great Things (2)
Jumping straight into summer going from three
jerseys to swimsuit and shorts, I bought fairy
flip flops with diaphanous roses and sequins
too beautiful to wear, the sweet scent of
jasmine filling the air
The crocodile within me lay in the sun yesterday
luxuriating in the cool wind stroking and teasing
my skin, the inviting pool too cool for swimming
yet I dipped my head in the icy water while
my ankles froze
A layer of misty cloud wisps obscuring the sun
today, almost too late to go outside again, the
crocodile restless, inspired by dreams of great
things while all that is expected is cleaning the
kitchen; I wonder
Did Edith Holden, Edwardian author of the Country
Diary, ever wash dishes, feel angry, dream of new
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Wisdom The Key (Revised)
The questionnaire classified me as a problem
case with low root Chakra; it arose from when
I replied ‘No’ to questions whether I trust people
– they implied love means the same as trust
I love people unconditionally and accept their
shortcomings respectfully – including stupidity;
I believe people all have good intent but lack
wisdom, that is why I love them regardless
I do not trust anyone’s judgment because they
lack the mental equipment to obtain benefit for
themselves, much less for anybody else – my
love is not based on their intelligence
It is based on enjoyment of the beauty and variety
they add to life; I bestow trust as a highest honour
only a few earn by acting with honourable and
dignified nobility in being wise enough
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Oh Mistress-Mine (Revised)
Oh Mistress-Mine, like the Old Testament's Prodigal Son you
return unto the fold so stealthily, coming to us like a Prodigal
Daughter; you've rested well, it's seen in your demeanour,
you are calm and resigned as sensed in your serenity
Will it be another foray into unchartered territory where
you'll do innovative work, showing how we, like you, can
stay home courageously, with long disappearances, sudden
returns as a new moon after an eclipse
To shyly smile, win new acolytes with strict orders, rejecting
irrational demands made eagerly by troops who stayed
guarding sacred portals from barbarian horde invasions -
uneducated clients who demand non-entitled services
We are a profession fighting for executive recognition of
our smooth relays of foreign texts into a civilised tongue,
one that is understood by the Anglo-Saxon hordes rampaging
south from the cold northern slopes
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Limited To Three Dimensions
Finally read the last book in my favourite children's
series in which Stella Blakemore brought all threads
together, explaining desire to follow lines connecting
all holy places on earth, to throw off the yoke, follow
the dream of a great pilgrimage to experience great
myths embodying humankind's ideals - or to escape
responsibilities when too tired to make sense of our
lives when people differ too much for understanding
the meaning of love
Those characters who still live in my mind, lived
situations which explained how to deal with a lack
of communication - and too much devotion for all
the wrong reasons, illustrating why my favourite
professor and his wife grew apart - how false
sentiment engendered by admiration for talent
can be placed in perspective - maybe it would
have been meaningless in 1974 when printed
who knows -
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Damien-kid
Hunting for recipe books in the bookshop, I bought
Good Omens, what FUN, the Damien-kid playing
Spanish Inquisition, dunking the witch, a little girl
tied to a chair, in the pond until the Inquisitors so
hot, they dunked themselves
Never thought of playing this when I was small, just
danced around in my mother’s wide dress and sang
songs, my brothers’ gang sat on the rafters, tried
sleeping in a hole in the ground though it got too
cold and they crept back inside
A theme running like gold thread through the book
all tapes turn into Queen’s music if left in the car for
too long, Freddy Mercury replacing the classics to
the demon’s chagrin, brings on fits of laughter;
Sister Loquacious switching the babies
So Damien’s hell-hound changed into a sweet little
doggie; both demon and angel lamenting imminent
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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A Melody In Soft Gilded Brown (Revised)
There's always a heroine playing the ivories in my heart,
she plays Schubert's Impromptu in A-flat major beautifully
tonight - light-flashing notes, rolling whirlpools encircling
a melody in soft gilded brown
I follow in dance, turning whorls twirling, move to and
fro, up and down, weave musical lines in my heart until
circles heave in emotion, reach a peak and melody gilded
in soft velvet brown breathes tranquil serenity
My heart's secret place engulfs everyday life, revels in
memory of every great love, assigns delight to everyone,
each ray of sunshine, all moonbeams safe in a place
where no blight of being can touch - a Platonic world
Perfect of ideas where beauty remains an ideal
calling the dreamer forth - briefly adorning the
face of every smiling human being…
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Fyntameryn As Fine as Can Be
Words conjuring images
more beautiful than reality
the horsethief passionately
whispering:
Dancer, all aglow with ribbons
and bows – a ladies’ horse,
high-stepping, as fine as
can be
Teasing with a tongue-twister,
a black dappled horse and
grey also – magical images
of horses
A fiery copper stallion, a dark
chestnut and bright bay horse,
a brown roan, ‘boknekperd’ and
grey sorrel
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Superior, Amused Cool
Friday night should hold some enchantment
but when my computer at work got angry at
me and refused to send finished documents
to my colleague, Friday night lost its shine -
nothing I did afterwards got it back
Learning passé composé for the eventual test
does not hold any charm so I did not even begin,
fixing the house does not seem very inviting -
in the end I settled in front of the TV watching
anaconda's, dingo's, tigers and hawks
Devouring their prey - I had a choice to watch
cricket of course, just join my beloved at the big
screen TV, but this does not appeal, I only take
him a glass of wine from time to time and the
night is all mine - but it's energy I lack
Maybe dinner should have been more than a
chocolate with nuts, egg on rye and a cup of
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Continue To Live (Revised)
A sweet grey car replaced my noble Jeep,
it is utterly alien to me; oh, I always knew
this day would come, the Jeep's upkeep
was an extra expense we did not need
and now it's gone, I feel terrible for
letting it go so easily
Rejoiced in the ease of transaction, just left
my Jeep - battery suddenly flat when we
went to the garage to make the exchange,
heart of a brave vehicle broken, I pray its
spirit will come to live in the car we
received in its place
It held me safe, even when I sped in front
of oncoming traffic it kept other cars from
bumping into me, alive like Herbie in The
Love Bug, a car holding a spirit, I hope the
Jeep's magical presence will return to me
and be content to live in a Suzuki
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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