Little birdies leave their nest

To pass or fail the test

Creating emptiness

In hearts of moms and dads

It’s happiness to see them fly so well

Feeling misty, knowing when they return

They’ll be reformed

No longer a mother’s child

Life is not the same

Now that they’ve matured

Final strings have been trimmed

They never return as before

An empty nest, quiet, filled with memories

sit on my lap like I'm Santa Clause
fat belly, gray beard and all my flaws
whisper your desires in my ear
there's no one else to hear
why I should buy you a gift
stop wiggling, I get the drift
oh! what a naughty girl
gold necklace with a pearl?
it's only money
anything for my honey
a ride in my sleigh
well why didn't you say
I love this old sleigh bed
sure beats the day bed
what, matching ear rings?
a list of a few other things?

ALMOST "49": AN APOLOGY

You dropped them in their tracks,
Hit them harder than an axe,
Now I realize you did that without tryin'...
It was far, far too late
To save the fallen 48,
But I could stop becomin' "49"!
Oh, I'd hate to be your number "49"...

You sit and hold his hand
And give him peace
He misses you when you’ve gone
You are his lifeline, his anchor and release.

You are his whole being
His love, his need
You comfort and console him
He reaches out to you when his memories bleed.

As he disintegrates
Body broken
You pull him from disaster
And rescue him with words tenderly spoken.

You treat him with honour
He smiles at you
You smile and give him a hug
He does need you to live, but you need him too.

"MOONED EARTH'S GAP"
Margaret Ann Waddicor
16th December 2010.

You bridge the gap
between the now
and never coming soon,
the moon discovers craters
are a trap,
the stars they wink in wonder
as she plunders out from space,
a whole galaxy of lace
to make her dress,

and bless the earth
that spinning ball
out in the hue of stunning blue
with water first,
that slaked her thirst for more,
she's now without
but can expect
a visit
one or two,

I don't need a very, Brady Christmas...
and don't get me started, on that one about "ghosts"!

I want, my family's idiosynchracies,
not some family, for whom one boasts !

Growing up, there was our Uncle Johnny,
always irritated to the point, that he swore;

but, way before we arrived at our cousins,
we'd be arguing over, who gets the door !

What I'm sayin' is, it's only natural,
it's even documented, that reindeer can't hear;

42ND and 3rd.

Going to forty second and third,
that’s where I’ll meet my Fate, .
Some may say it’s really absurd,
‘your not allowed to make that date’

I say do not walk silent to an end,
you have a choice, play an ace.
Scream shout, run around, spend.
you don’t have to go at their pace.

My mind races up front in cue,
my future’s saviour is here to dine,
Why not him, so many others do,
surely not all will walk this line.

(1)
The more it's broken the stronger it is
it oft occurs during a whizz
now that this is at an end
what oft gets broken is the wind
(2)
The smell of corruption's everywhere
it permeates the very air
an aroma of something rotten
or a bag of old groceries forgotten
what is it smells so much like death ?
sad to say that it's your breath
(3)
A potted flower just now wilted
shriveled up and sideways tilted
the cat has choked, begun to bawl
seeking fresh air down the hall

Crazy, how things add up
and you never would've guessed,
that "less", could've been your lot in life,
or you could've been more greatly blessed.

I could've been someone else
maybe a leader with a cause;
or you could've been a loser
with your life, totally on "pause".

Or maybe an entertainer
living a fantasy on stage,
being careful not to throw a fit
like an artist that's full of rage.

The darkness of the dream
That is the world
Can not stop me
For I am the reality
The one that basks in it.

The child of that illusion
Created by the mediocrity
Imposed by the dream
Of the world
Which is only a fog
Of the true reality

Knowing that for me
There is only one direction
That road I travel
Has not been mapped out
There is no compass
No true north