Margaret Poems - Poems about Margaret

She wore a tiffany hat with a bow and six big plumes of red and white, it had an ultra wide asymmetrical brim that rolled up to one side. When it came to dames like this I believe God ran out of humble stock ! She wore pompadour shoes, like she had nothing to...

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For a few seconds, I can forget the human, I can just know the humanity. Margaret from across the street is eighty-three, My mother is fifty-three. Sweet tea is eternal, it would seem. They're talking candy for Christmas: Peanut brittle and cinnamon rolls, Potato taffy and candy canes, Holidays and pine trees wrapped up in twinkle lights, And in a shimmering tinsel. And I can...

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Margaret Thatcher thought no one could match her. Her hair was laquered, never a mess; she bought her knickers from M&S. She did as she wanted to do - and love her or hate her it's true - she thought she was right, ignoring the plight of millions in the dole queue. The poll tax was a big mistake; her name was hated in...

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Margaret Count your blessings every day Take your baby steps every day There is no need to walk fast Also you not alone Our father are watching out for you We are all children of God Soon will be time to plant Perennials that will come out In the spring Yes the spring is coming soon Thanks god our God put the Winter to sleep Now you can...

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See Saw, Margery Daw, Marguerite - a pearl of a name… stateswoman, socialite, singer? No, a servant, soldier, and spy. Could she be a latent Margaret Thatcher? No she's clearly a servant, a nurse to prisoners of war. Margarita, clearly a picture, which brings to mind a debutante? No, she's clearly a "soldier" a POW herself soon enough. Marguerite/a Musical, does she dream of...

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Queen Margaret, of four year rule... I learned about you. Never knew! ...

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True love does not come in chariot ~ it walks until it finds its way....

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Mrs. Margaret 'Molly' Corbin: A true Revolutionary War heroine. When her husband in battle fell dead, Though wounded, she fired his cannon instead....

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Margaret dared to poke the bear She thought she was so smart With eyes of coal; she lacked a soul And shot him straight through the heart She sat and laughed at what she’d done Because she thought she was smarter than everyone She played the victim and tried to sway the stares and talks of what people would say When his family...

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Margaret Atwood's: The Testaments Offering to surf a periwinkle wave with broad sets of sprawls, entertaining a receptive ivory sea of crested puffiness, wooing anointing doves to joyously immerse creation, toward its pure dawning rise of scriptures souls. ***I read some reviews, it's an intriguing read into the insights of womankind bearing upon a prophetic assemblage of the impending...

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Politician Margaret Thatcher No man could match her First lady Prime Minister at number ten It had always been a man till then! Clerihew Contest Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich She was nicknamed 'the Iron lady' during her term in office 1/23/19...

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It’s me. Margaret. My parents’ gave me this proper name Always wondered from where it came I never liked it while in school Just didn’t think that it was cool Cut it in half and added an i Now I’m wondering why Starting to think it’s not so bad Didn’t appreciate what I had Now I’m grateful for their choice My parents provided, when I...

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Sugary mix roiling in a saucepan in the heart of the house: a light-filled kitchen where family meals were taken in lieu of the dining room, thought of by me in two words: 'formality' and 'dark', whereas, windows and a glass door in the kitchen let in light, led out to a porch, then into a fenced backyard where chickens...

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In a bliss of restful solitude on this most blessed day, my mind goes back in time to how we celebrated our ways I remember the laughter and love that flowed around the room, the excitement and joy we felt before you were taken too soon All the children of our family were close like cousins should...

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Nowadays I'm awake before the light. My talons are sore with over-use. My beak is shattered in 3 places. My feathers, thank God, still look amazing. Though I've been flightless For four days now... Starting to see ghost worms. Hobbling around in the cold. Dark tunnels. Chewing on wet paper. I'm finished. Someone tell Margaret I love her. And that she was right. Those zooming beams of divine...

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