The Poetry of Ann Margetson

The other week some African Violets I did buy,
They were going cheap, no flowers, I gave a sigh,
But picked them up wondering if they’d bloom,
I placed them in the kitchen, quite a sunny room.

I talked to it, watered it, trimmed off a leaf or two,
Saw some buds coming, would they be pink or blue?
Then just the other day, I looked, there to my disbelief,
A bunch of pure white flowers among each green leaf.

They looked so pretty sitting shaded from the sun,
They brightened me up as a new day had begun.
I looked, and there are many buds waiting to bloom,
I am so glad I bought it and put it in a sunny room.

The plant is healthy and will last years to come,
What a great gift for just a few pennies I won,
Sometimes good things do not always show
Just like my flowers, needed love to really grow.

M. Ann Margetson
September 30, 2000
2000/Africanviolets

Stop for a moment and thinks about words.
What springs to mind when you hear herds?
Some roaming cattle across a great dry plain?
Or shepherd and dog bringing sheep home again?

But herds of white clouds in a bright blue sky
Can bring another picture, I wonder why?
Or a frightened crowd being herded along
These words the same, yet different, not wrong.

It is a way with words that makes a good book,
Makes the reader smile and take another look,
Changing the meaning by a twist of a word
Will paint a new picture, or a new meaning heard.

Just sit down and write using a word many ways,
It will bring you a smile on dark, dismal days,
Then do not be shocked if one day you find
You have a story or book in your active mind.

M. Ann Margetson
© September 30, 2000
2000/awaywith

The Lord has blessed me with a gift
that flows freely through my heart,
Tis the gift of writing poems and hope
some joy to others impart,

I’m almost at one thousand, this to reach
by the end of the year my aim,
I do not really want fortune at all,
nor do I want glory or fame.

I just love to tell on paper
what God’s gifts mean to me,
Tell of the beauty of this land
in all it’s grand simplicity,

I love to tell in words so sweet
how I love my husband so,
And just how much with him
up to heaven I wish to go.

May be I’ll live long enough
another thousand poems to write,
May be, if I pray hard and work
with all my mind and might,

But if not my heavenly pen
will always continue to flow,
To inspire my spirit children
to write on their earth below..

M. Ann Margetson
© September 29, 2000
2000/Annof

Look at the mickle mass daisies so cheerful and bright,
And the golden rod, such a spectacular sight,
The fields of ripened wheat swaying in the breeze,
Farmers working hard before the earth does freeze.

The multi-coloured dahlias have survived the cooler air,
Along with the last of the pansies and some phlox out there,
The last of the tomatoes left growing on the vine,
Look at the birds fly south in a Vee shaped line.

Now the trees that grace this land change from simple green,
Till many other colours on all the trees are seen,
And when the sky is vivid blue and the wind is still,
Come and gaze in wonder and your life with beauty fill.

M. Ann Margetson
© September 25, 2000
2000/Alookat

Road works, the bane of a driver’s life,
They cause many souls trouble and strife,
Sometimes you crawl along, even stand still,
They are every few miles, you have had your fill
Of stopping and starting, wasting gas and time,
You try another way, to be fast is your aim.
But there stands a man with a sign and red hat,
More road works ahead, your plan falls flat.
Blood pressure and heart pills are on the increase,
And will continue to rise till the road works cease,
But then one day you sail along a fast highway,
Now was it worth all that anguish? Yes, I’d say!

M. Ann Margetson
© September 25, 2000
2000/Adrivers

Have you ever gazed in the mirrors in the temple of the Lord?
Seeing your reflection going on and on forever more?
Looking and contemplating and learning of His word
By the symbolic beauty and so love God all the more.
The mirror facing one way could be generations now gone,
All your kindred dead linked to you in endless love,
The other, your future generations, those still to come,
Waiting for their turn to roam from their heaven above,
An endless chain of unity, linked in the temple so dear
Where knowledge flows so freely, if we listen carefully
As the spirit whispers many truths so plain and clear,
We can understand the scriptures and God with clarity.
We are one with others when their work we do,
Just in Gods temple we know that we can say,
We are one with others, this we know is true
As we step into the shoes of others in a special way,
Just for a short while we become them and in turn
They become us and so are one, what a wonderful feeling,
What great knowledge we can find and treasure all our days
Even just for a short moment, while in the mirror gazing,
So gain much understanding of God and His perfect ways.

M. Ann Margetson
© September 24, 2000
2000/Forevermirrors.

Written after hearing a sacrament talk and a quote from Brother Wilcox.

What do I ask that would be said of me
When this earthly life is ended? What would it be?
That I was famous and powerful with gold?
That I was rich with earthly wealth untold?

No

I will not have won a medal for a race well run,
Or designed a building, the work well done,
Nor invented something that helps mankind,
Or won a Nobel prize for my great mind.

But if I have helped someone feel better one day,
Or shown a wanderer back along the way
That leads to life eternal, given a friendly smile,
Gone with a lonely person for that extra mile.

If I have by some act shown I love God my King,
Or written a poem that some sweet joy did bring
To a grieving heart or someone who needed aid,
Held a little child close when he was afraid,

If I love my fellow men and accepted love back,
If my heart, love, empathy and charity does not lack,
Or if I have taught the truth and followed the Lord,
Prayed, and felt the sweet comfort of His word,

If I have been a mother and true love given,
Been a wife, worthy of being together in heaven,
Sung praises to my God till the rafters did ring,
If this is what is said, then how my heart will sing.

M. Ann Margetson
© September 23, 2000
2000/Whatwill

How often do those pierced feet
walk the carpeted floors?
How often do His healing hands
open holy temple doors?
You may not hear the footfalls
or see His face serene,
But you will feel the quiet spirit,
know that He has been.

Does He look and see us working
for those now gone?
Does He greet them with open arms
when their work is done?

Sometimes you feel the joy from those
who accept and are now free,
Know of the blessings that flow
as they press on to eternity.

I wonder how often He sweetly smiles
as our callings we fulfill?
How often does he calm and comfort us,
heal us when we are ill?
Oh, the blessings of the temple that are ours,
they are too many to count,
For we are fed from God’s heaven above
by His ever bounteous fount

M. Ann Margetson
© September 22, 2000
2000/Templevisitor

What is this feeling that tells me that God loves me so,
Whispers in my heart that He makes all things grow?
What is it that sparks the mind enlightening me with truth?
What tells me Jesus is my Saviour without physical proof?
I know that Jesus lives and will love me throughout all time,
I know I have a Father above and one day heaven will be mine,
I know we have the truth restored in these latter days
That tells us of God’s goodness and pure eternal ways.
This knowledge means more to me than life itself,
More than untold riches or enormous mounds of wealth.
So what word could fit this feeling and knowledge so sweet?
One that tells me that one day, my family, and Christ, I’ll meet
If I’m worthy in celestial halls, where peace will always reign,
Is Testimony strong enough? Or should another word gain
The prize that would give voice that could proclaim
Oh, I know, I know that Christ will come to earth again?
Will come in all His glory and I want to be by His side
Shouting the proclamation, truth now cannot hide
This Testimony. Will this word then have to suffice
For the feelings of gratitude for His willing sacrifice?

M. Ann Margetson
© September 20, 2000
2000/Whatword

It is at this time of year when the kitchen is rarely clean,
For fruit and vegies are in plentiful supply and have been
Just picked and fresh, so now is the time for jars of jam,
And a hundred and one other things you can freeze and can.

The other week it was apricots and plums bright and red,
Along with the blueberry jam, hardly time for us to be fed,
Then came tomatoes and beets, beans and apples by the ton,
What a mess the kitchen is with all the work to be done..

But when winter comes and everywhere is chilly and cold,
You can produce a meal for nothing, glorious to behold,
Then it is worth the effort and all the sticky mess around
It’s worth the meals that are late, or eat what can be found.

I love the time of year when all this bounty comes,
It lasts from early strawberries to the last of the plums,
Baby carrots so sweet, long flat beans a real fall treat,
And at the farmers market, all the old friends that you meet.

M. Ann Margetson
© September 18, 2000
2000/Amessy