Tag Archives: poem

Remember

There is no place better than where you are, no life easier than yours, no poetry but that which a heart hears and no performance necessary. ©Sharron R. McMillan Excerpt from “On Performing” Advertisements

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I Miss you Mr. Willow

You stood tall, strong and solid as I passed you every morning on the way to my studio. Fungus grew around your base but I never thought you’d die. And now there is a gap where you belonged for many, … Continue reading

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Seventeen Years – Have we learned anything at all. . .

Have we learned anything at all about hatred, racism, anger. Did all those innocent people die in vain or can we say the world is a better, safer place since then. I wonder. ©2018 Sharron R. McMillan

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A Magic Garden That I Know

A magic garden that I know. . .Where red birds sing and blue frogs grow. . . Where ducks stop in and then they stay. . . and raccoon’s favourite place to play. A magic garden that I know. . … Continue reading

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Wash Day

I like wash day. Sorting, folding clean, fresh clothes Put away, tidy, organized. Clean, empty hampers – small accomplishment, big satisfaction. Something is orderly in my life on wash days. ©Sharron R. McMillan

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One Golden Plum

Our whole golden plum crop – one golden plum. We shared it and it tasted divine. ©Sharron R. McMillan  

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Just Being Happy

Happily ever after was a fairy tale I so much wanted to live in. But now  happy is in spite of what I don’t like, overlooking what I can’t change, making do with what I have, not hoping for more. … Continue reading

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Sunday Morning Prayer

Thank you for this very special place you gave us over 40 years ago.  And thank you for protecting and preserving it. In spite of our wanderlust and mistakes, loggers and well-meaning friends we are still here where you placed … Continue reading

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Five A.M. In My Studio

I showed up, but not my muse – pen and paper, just a ruse. What to do when words don’t come, sit and stare, is all I’ve done. Thoughts skip in then disappear, no ideas, nothing here but sun beams … Continue reading

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Vistas

Look past ferns and saplings, between cedar and maple where light illumines something further away than eyes can see. Vistas in woods and life, distant points yet to explore. Go there, moving always towards unseen prospects and points of view. … Continue reading

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Reborn

Death is not final all is reborn, Transfigured, delivered – a brand new form. ©Sharron R. McMillan

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Daughters As Neighbours

Takes time to reshape from mother to neighbour, from daughter to neighbour. Each aware of the need for fences and gates that define a healthy, happy neighbourhood. ©Sharron R. McMillan

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The Little Seed

In the heart of a seed buried deep, so deep, A dear little plant lay fast asleep. “Wake!” said the sunshine, “and creep to the light.” “Wake!” said the voice of the raindrops bright. The little plant heard, and it … Continue reading

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Literary Writers

Literary Writers write other people’s words, use successful people’s names, recall famous people’s opinions. In other words, to be considered a writer one must parrot well what has already been written to somehow prove one is well read, clever and … Continue reading

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Wild Rose

It May Have Thorns Like the flower you gave me and the words you chose so I give my love as you gave me the rose. Though it is not perfect and could cause you pain for its scent is … Continue reading

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