Maggie Watson's Blog, page 11
March 30, 2025
Thank you so much Ray at Maticadores Canada for publishing my poem “Walking Back to you”
This is the last of my four poems that were published at Maticadores Canada for the Thematic Theme: MEN
THEMATIC SUBMISSION CALL POEMS: MEN – the “best” poems about MEN
*My poem is the last of the four featured here.
March 27, 2025
The Gap
written in response to Sadje’s #Whatdoyousee
Upon a bridge, I have sat while attempting to
lessen the gap.
Alas, I have failed.
The devil is always in the details.
So many never read between the lines.
Then, the message is lost.
Should I move from the bridge as I watch another
ship of hope set sail?
The saltwater tears of my frustration have now corroded
the bridge.
I feel its frame begin to crumble underneath the weight of
my despair.
The devil is always in the details.
If you look closely enough, you will always
find deeper meanings there.
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March 25, 2025
March 23, 2025
Tracks of My Tears
(written March 2025)
Walking along the tracks of my tears.
My body absorbs each saltwater droplet.
Drenched in pain without an umbrella to stave off
this melancholy downpour.
I am searching for an arbour.
On either side of the tracks, there are stations.
I see shadowy figures patiently twiddling their
thumbs until I succumb to the weight of my sorrow.
I do not have the strength to run.
I am bone-tired from carrying this trunk full of memories.
I stumble, and the tracks start to slide, pulling me back
to where this journey began.
Back then, my outlook was bleak.
Past versions of me return my gaze with hollow eyes.
I no longer recognise who I was.
I hold each version close while I apologise
for being weak.
Tracks of tears are often painful to touch,
but the only way to heal is to walk
barefoot as you retrace your steps.
Looking back makes me realise how far I have come.
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March 20, 2025
March 19, 2025
For a Moment
written in response to Sadje’s #WDYS
Mother Nature showers me with cherry blossoms.
The essence lingers on my skin,
a sweet aroma of hope that the arrival of spring brings.
As pink confetti floats through the air, I forget all my worries.
With renewed vigour, I embrace the flurries that
descend from the trees.
And, in that brief moment, life becomes a breeze.
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March 17, 2025
Heaven
(written March 2025)
A flock of doves cries
as the gate to heaven opens
Angels spread their wings
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March 15, 2025
Heartbeats
(written March 2025)
Trapped behind barricades with
no room for manoeuvre, the wings of love
clipped by ego and pride.
Souls stupefied by the noise of overactive
minds cry out in despair.
Hearts tear at the bars of the barricades, longing
to be free.
Barricades do not protect.
They only imprison.
Never place love in a gilded cage
with a ribbon to keep it safe.
Set it free.
If it returns, it is yours to keep.
Behind a barricade, only a slow death awaits when
the flitting of your heartbeats you negate.
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March 13, 2025
Sourdough
(written January 2025)
Memories sprinkle dust,
icing sugar on the periphery of our minds.
We lick the sugar from our fingers, only to find its
sweetness gone, a bitter aftertaste on the tongue.
We lick the past like cats lick their fur
without reason or rhyme.
Why?
Within the annals of history, there is nothing new to find.
Are we masochists who thrive on pain?
The blade was the lesson inserted, coating it in sugar
will not change the outcome.
Wipe the blade.
Clean the slate.
From bitter memories, only sourdough we make.
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March 11, 2025
Cold
(written March 2025)
Words are cold to touch
a poor substitute for love
actions speak loudly
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