Good morning, everyone,
Ann, a new poet, is having trouble posting a poem. When she hits submit her screen goes black.
I'm going to pin this, with her contact info, and some of her work, until the problem can be resolved.
If anyone can help her, I would appreciate it, She uses an iphone from Norway.
Thanks, Maggie
____________________________________________________
Margaret Ann Waddicor - Poet
Fjelly
Flatdalsvegen 730
3841 Flatdal
annwaddicor@icloud.com
Telefon: 047 41 42 08 66
This morning quietly enters the stage
her veils sinking and rising
so slowly changing shape in the vagrant air
gently caresses firs and birches
with her invisible wand of winter cool
encourages the colours to tint the view
sees her reflection in each silver birch leaf
of yellow and green
knows here place
as does the fat pigeon
on top of that maple tree
his shape a dark contrast
to the tracery of branches
another wings past
in ungainly flaps gliding a dawn glidssando
joins a sudden shower of leaves
that follow suit
some spinning enjoying their last flight
to come to rest with the gathered pile on the lawn
giving the big toadstool a cocked hat
M. Ann Waddicor 22nd October 2020
Eve's Twilit Scene
In the evening twilight
the mountain and the trees
sit there immobile in the still air
only the colours seem to vibrate
with autumn fervour
like fireworks in the quiet
the grey rocks expressing their coldness
the slight sprinkle of snow on top
only two house visible
peeping over some yellow birches with their brown eyebrows
golden stars welcome the Milky Way on the green lawn
no bird disturbs the peace
an hour to meditate
when all has fallen motionless
the mind can concentrate on being stilled
no thought
just contemplation of the scene
allowing nature's magic to sink in
M Ann Waddicor 9th August 2020
Describing my good friend Synnove who died at 92
The valley has fallen silent
it's Queen has taken her leave
the trees wilt in sunshine
the birds stilled are hidden
we breath as before but much heavier
our wings have been weighed down with grief
she'll not come back to the fold
her train is the mist in the valley
her dress is of silver and gold
reflected from her heavenly body
soon to be buried in mould
her spirit has long taken flight
up to the stars in the sky
where her tears will come down
like her silken gown
its glittering sight in the river
there showing her presence forever
M. Ann Waddicor 14th August 2020
Love to you all Ann of Norway
Margaret Ann Waddicor Engeslk poetess
I do not know the reason why she can't post on hitting Submit but these poems are fantastic. There is unflinching calmness I felt while reading her work.
Ann has been a long-time friend, meeting us for a stay in Cleveland approx 10 years ago, when Barry and I first moved in together and to Cleveland. I sent her a numbered how to, though I am also technology-challenged, I try this and that until it works. Unless I am totally ignorant if she can messenger me, she can also post and interact on this or any other site. I like learning new things but Ann has been going through some serious health issues, always dealing with them in a positive way. Never taking her feelings out on others. An ultimate kindness permeates through her nature poems.