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Best Poems Written by Margaret Foster

Below are the all-time best Margaret Foster poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Song At Sunrise

A Song at Sunrise



He sang the song at sunrise, to the morning dawn
It rose into the atmosphere and carried on and on

It fell in gentle rain upon the barren lands
It moistened upturned faces and was caught in outstretched hands

It blew within warm winds across the marshy fen
Was whispered through the waving reeds and reached the hearts of men

This song is never ending all around the earth
The song that started long ago with our sweet Saviour's birth





 POULTER'S MEASURE  that is  in alternating 12 then 14 syllables lines and so on 
(the form always commences with a 12 syllable line)
Courtesy of  Brian Strand

Margaret Foster: 18th February 2010

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The Futility of War

The Futility of War


In every little town
The names are written down
Surrounded by poppies red
The young who went to fight
To do what they thought right
blindly followed those who led
To fields of mud and clay 
Where lives were blown away
A whole generation dead


 “Lest We Forget”---A phrase from Kipling’s “Recessional”

Balassi Stanza 

Margaret Foster Sept 29th 2011

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A Harvest of Music

A Harvest of Music

The orchestra gathered under the dome
Audience  awaiting the pure joy to come. 
Descending silence alerting the senses. 
Arrive the maestro, and magic commences. 

Trombone and trumpet burst forth with feeling. 
Explosion of sound, set senses reeling. 
Tuba and French horn now adding their voice, 
Uniting as one to delight and rejoice. 

Soft music flowing, a leaf in a stream, 
Catching the ear in a heavenly dream, 
Rising and soaring, empowered of wings, 
A dream maker's touch and violin sings. 

With long curving bow caressing the strings,
Hair hiding her face, an angel, she brings 
The music of angels, rafters invading 
Haunting blue notes from cello cascading. 

Clarinet cadenza, clear fluid tones 
Tugging the heartstrings, embracing the bones. 
Filling the dome, ethereal splendour 
Fading away, celestial wonder. 

Percussion take hold, no longer hidden 
Cymbals and side drum do as they're bidden, 
Crashing and booming, sound finding its berth 
Pulling the listener back down to the earth. 

Thunderous applause with standing ovation. 
The crowd full of rapture capture elation, 
A feast for the soul, a prayer with no word
A harvest of music, to honour the Lord.

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Inspiration

Into my mind the letters chase
All jumbled up, scrabbling for space
Like naughty children in a race
To see who gets the better place
And who’s to choose from that melee
And set them where they ought to be
We hope the Muse will soon INSPIRE
With words to set the brain afire

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Blue Heaven

Blue Heaven

                     midsummer zephyr

                 jacaranda blossom bells

                        a cobalt carpet




contest entry.

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A Wise Father

A Father's advice to his son on his wedding day
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

A Wise Father

My wise old father said to me
Be kind and gentle to your wife
And happy you will always be
Throughout the years of married life

Be kind and gentle to your wife 
For she is loving, soft and sweet
Throughout the years of married life 
Her trust in you must be complete

For she is loving soft and sweet
So you must never do her wrong
Her trust in you must be complete
An honest heart will keep love strong

So you must never do her wrong
And happy you will always be
An honest heart will keep love strong
My wise old father said to me.




Pantoum contest May 8th 2010

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Homesick

.

I want to be alone where skylarks sing
Where primroses grow wild and bluebells ring
Where sweet the fragrant scent of Mountain thyme
Back in the glen that once was yours and mine

I’m wistful for the sights, the sounds, the smells
The purple evening sheen of heather bells
I miss the gloaming’s hazy mellow light
As summer’s day fades slowly into night

My heart tells me, I’m lost, I must return
To see my highland home, my woodland burn
Refresh, and set my captive spirit free
Among the hills forever calling me

This lonely pain is razor sharp and strong
Tomorrow I go back where I belong.

.

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The Old Shoe Box

The Old Shoe Box

A box of old shoes under the stair,
Discarded, unwanted, no matching pair.
No longer needed, pushed out of sight.
Resigned to this box, and a fast fading light.

Soft supple leather with creases to spare, 
Polished and nourished with infinite care,
Deep, deepest red, black cherry hue,
Once, long ago, a fine ladies shoe.

Dirty old canvas all tatty and frayed,
Laces have gone with age they have strayed.
Way back in time in Olympics it shone,
The end of an era, the last race is run.

A crusty old boot with steel in the hide,
Remembers the days the land it would stride,
Helped build this country relished the role,
Undaunted, unbowed, grit in the sole.

A soft velvet slipper its partner long gone,
Lies quiet in the box while the world moves along,
Once in a while a pale silken glove,
Holds it so gently and strokes it with love.

Such a wearisome time in this box of rejects,
What happens now? What happens next?
Each knows the answer. No use debating.
It’s the end of the line, and Heaven is waiting.
~~~~


Written after a visit to a local nursing home.....
21st January 2010

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Old Fashioned Garden

~~

In an old fashioned garden behind a stone wall
Hollyhocks and sunflowers growing so tall
Red rambling roses drape over a fence
Old fashioned flowers with colours intense.

Lupins and larkspur in lilac display
Buddleia blooming where butterflies play
Surrounding moonflower whose petals unfold
A bright splash of starburst, marsh marigold

Herbaceous borders, rosemary and rue
Columbines and clover full damp with the dew
Scents long forgotten their perfumes endow
I loved them long ago, I love them now

These old fashioned flowers, I planted them all,
In an old fashioned garden behind a stone wall

~~

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Frozen In Time

~~

Hand in hand they meander through  the deserted lane, 
freshly fallen snow crumpling under foot 
Littering the sky, Bright stars,  glittering like coins on a belly dancers belt,
slowly surrender to the coming dawn


Inch by measured inch the glory of Ra overpowers the starlight. 
In a pale blue sky, a pale golden disc, the colour of ripe oats at harvest time, 
looking close enough, and cool enough, to reach out and touch. 
Brilliant rays, arrows of liquid gold, capture the pristine landscape, 
splintering like a million shards of shattered glass. 
No sound, only silence, profound, in the clear crystal air.

In the distance, a cock crows.

Long morning shadows cast by tall pines, 
revealing a lone stoat, resplendent in his ermine coat. 
Emerging from shade, merging with sunlight, 
loping across the virgin snow with bounding grace.
White on white, 
only the black tip of his tail and tiny footprints betraying his presence.

In the distance, a dog barks,
	 
A small cottage, a stone chimney, a whisper of smoke announcing a new day,
A hardy little robin pecking with determination to uncover water under ice. 
A door slams, the robin takes flight. 
Snow slides from the roof to gather in piles like miniature Himalayas. 
Icicles drop pearls as the thaw sets in. The world is awakening.

In the distance, a train whistles.
Still holding hands they walk on.

~~