you will need if you wish to use any of my original poetry.
Thank you,
Angela
Perched upon the ragged rock,
His gaze accross the ocean blue.
Tears burn a trail upon his cheeks,
He sits alone and thinks of you.
Your last goodbye was at this place,
Thought you'd be here when he returned.
Guess it wasn't meant to be.
A lesson to be learned?
He feels your warmth your gentle touch,
Closed his eyes to see your face.
It's been five very lonely years
Without the warmth of your embrace.
Carnations cast upon the sea
Are now receding with it's flow.
His memories, scattered on the wind
As were your ashes, years ago.
copyright 2000 Angela Knight
Written for my dear son on the
fifth anniversary of the death of our
very dear friend Debbie Johnson.
Lately I have witnessed life
through the bottom of too many empty bottles.
I ponder my reflection and see drab brown where yesterday there was a golden glow.
One more impetuous act forces me
to look at myself with alarming clarity.
The pale face that stands out like a beacon,
clouded eyes, windows to a soul bereft of sunshine.
"You look older", I was told today. Is it any wonder?
My mistake has cast this dark shadow over my head.
Not all mistakes in life can be corrected easily
but perhaps I can find happiness elsewhere,
In a new, more appropriate shade
of hair colour.
copyright 2000 Angela Knight
Written after many disastrous attempts of
trying to find a hair colour that I was happy with.
I've been stuck at home,
And where the heck d'you think youve been.
With all these screaming children
I can hardly stand the din.
I've been out to the mailbox,
scrubbed the dunny, washed the floor.
While you've been out there wandering,
What d'you think that I'm here for?
I bring up all your children,
Scrub your back and even more,
Do the shopping, wash the nappies,
I just can't stand any more!
Grab the Hoover, make the coffee,
Who's that banging on the door?
So while you've been out there wandering,
What d'you think that I'm here for?
Feed the dog and put the cat out,
What's that lump there by the door?
Find the bucket and the mop,
Oh my life is one long chore.
So when you come back from wandering
And you knock upon that door,
Won't you tell me my dear husband,
What d'you think that I'm here for?
copyright 1995 Angela Knight
This was written after listening to the song "I've Been Everywhere" by Lucky Starr. He sounded like he was having a great time roaming the whole of Australia.
All I could think was "You wouldn't sound so cheerful
mate, if you were here doing my job at home"
Little girl so pretty,
So gentle, meek and mild
If you could only see the pain
Inside this little child.
God is all-forgiving
But parents rarely are
Yet where is God, all said and done
When parents go too far?
The hurt, the pain, the anguish,
The things I cannot share
With anyone regardless,
If they have not been there.
Now I have grown older,
My memories come and go.
Still trying to forget events
That happened long ago.
The hurt, the pleas, the suffering
Still come to me at night.
God, love all little children
And help them through their plight.
copyright 1993 Angela Knight
Dedicated to Kass who finally found a family
to love her and keep her safe..
