(The background of this poem is symbolic and intentional.)
Family
Beautiful Angel
My Mother, Dixie Wilson, vacated her physical body in the early morning today. September 25, 2015. Life never dies, only transforms. She was a Space Trekkie and loved the Star Trek series for all the possibilities it opened up to consider. Now she is on a journey to the Singularity of Oneness in the Spacetime Continuum. Godspeed Mom. Love always.
A Hawk Watching Lions
A Hawk Watching Lions
They were a pride of lions, the family down the street,
I watched them from my tree-top perch.
Proud and regal in their ways, they held court daily
with the creatures all about them.
Those who gained their friendship felt the favour
of family loyalties and combined strengths
few could match.
Others felt their fearsome claws
and sharp, carnivore teeth.
I observed them with curious interest
as they lounged and played and hunted their prey.
Then I took to the air and quietly flew away.
November, 1996
Gardening With Mom
Gardening With Mom
Mom’s working in the garden
and it’s really quite a sight!
She owns some pretty dentures
but they never feel quite right
so they sit out on the counter
morning, noon, and night.
(I’ve seen her wear them once or twice.)
No teeth, no makeup, no bra—too tight.
She’s wrestling with lupins
and it’s a dirty, sweaty fight!
Even blackflies keep their distance
as they watch in awe and fright.
Guess I’d better grab a shovel
and work with all my might
to help her dig a little deeper
while there’s still a hint of light!
April, 2003
Mother
Mother
The splendour of precious gems
and crystals sparkling bright
cannot match the beauty
of her heart’s great inner light.
Compassion crowns her hours
with love’s empowering might,
as her mind bestows its bounty
filled with wonders and delight.
December, 2002
Flowerpoet 
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