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Margaret Ann Waddicor January 2010

There is not least 
an element of panache, 
of the theatrical 

in what I write, 
one dons a garb 
like that of a bard 

and expounds
with a superior vocabulary, 
with a feeling that one is swathing, 

the mind for all possible remarks 
of dashing value

to impress oneself first, 
to show how well one can dance
this particular waltz 

and does so
with an energy
and excitement 

that is worthy of a star
on the stage 
of the worlds greatest Opera's, 

sing it with pride and joy 
with a 'joi de vivre,' 
blaze it across the sky 

like the path of the
jet plane, 
leaving it there to turn
change its colours
in the changing lights 
of the sun 

and ripen into the finale 
par excellence. 

N'est pas mon ami?

Oh what a stage
the world is, 

if one takes up the robe 
and strides out into the fray 
of life's battles 

and loves 
and ......

Style / type: 
Free verse
Last few words: 
In a letter to someone long ago, LuvAnn.
Editing stage: 


the stage, upon which my Queen does tread with grace.
Indeed, you bring excitement to your role.
A fresh performance each and everytime !
I see the depth that you are, and will not ever reach the bottom.
With love, your knight, ~ Sir Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Oh fair Sir knight, Sir Gee, my argent follower
And yet 'tis I too who follow thee,
thy words do sometimes stir the air about,
creating rhythmed cadences that fire
like gun shots through the air, ( SMILE I wrote gin shots!!!! Fizzle fizzle POP!!)

And with your measured tread,
the hooves of horses charging,
I count you first of all the lords,
this entourage of mine,
though fiction, fathomed in the skies,
its blue abyss of dreamed reality,
this strange conglomerate of bardic scribes,
we do partake in reverie.

Thank you kind sir, I am sure,
With love from your Queenie Anne of 'swedes'
(sounded better that way!!!! Rooted what?)

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

All of you, you are so.....

Wonderful towards little me,
I grow bigger and strut about
like a great big wrinkled Christmas turkey,
just feeling absurd,
as I've had a tiny taste of wine
and its made me feel like a dance
so why not join me we'll prance
all the night in a nightie
oh heaven forbid,
when the fireworks go bang
I doubt if I can
as the organs is playing my song,
and look there she's watching,
the moon.

Thank you you dear friends here above me,
quite above me.....Ann with my lovey dovey love.

:) Why not?

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment
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