Welcome  to. . .
Megan's Poems  

Megan is another of my thirteen grandchildren.  After putting Isaac's poems here in my pages I found out that my Megan also wrote poetry.  The things us Grandma's learn about our grandkids!  All of us recently found out that she also is an artist.  A musical one we all knew because she has been playing the violin for over 9 years but to paint pictures?  I will scan the one she painted me for my birthday recently and include it on these pages as I just have to show it to you!  It is soooo beautiful.  I am going to have a special frame made for it also as a regular store bought one just wouldn't do it justice. Our Megan is certainly blooming with all of her talents.

Please do not lift nor use any of Megan's poetry without her consent. This information was posted when Megan was 16 years old.



I think about you now
and tears come to my eyes
because I had treated you so     
I thought I'd be a
better person if I tried to
help you.

When with you
I put on the 
"Friend Face".
When away
I'd laugh with my friends
at your sad state.
Then I got to know what a
wonderful and fascinating person
you were.
I now felt guilty when I laughed
but not brave enough to
stand up for or help you.
Into the summer I had
forgotten about you until
I got a call.
It was our orchestra teacher
telling me you had been crushed
in a four-wheeling accident.
I couldn't believe it.
I had treated you so bad 
and never got a chance to
ask for your forgiveness.
The teacher said she called me
because I was your only friend
from school.
If only I could go back
and make it right.
I hope you know you've
inspired me to be a better person.


Memories of a Grandfather

You sat in your chair
Wheel of Fortune
Price is Right.

When I walked by
you'd swat me
playfully with your


You had a stroke
and were paralyzed
on one side.

Now you just
sat, trying to
learn simple
things all over


In your time
of need
your son
Threw you out
not caring
one bit
about what
happened to

I was angry
and wanted to
hit him
for doing
that to you.

But I had 
moved away.

You died 
two years

I miss you.


There once was a bear named Root
Who liked to play the flute.
She sat on her chair
Without a care
While she went "Toot! Toot!"




In The Forest

In the forest
A Violinist

Loudly - softly.
Like a trumpeting elephant
Or a sweet lark.

In the forest
She is alone

In the forest
She is free, free,
Free to play
However she likes

Not bound by rules
Or regulations
Of the normal world

In the city
A boy listens
To a faint, lovely sound
Coming from afar.

Such a beautiful sound
He hears

A gift
From the girl
In the forest.


Blank Pages

I have a book filled with blank pages
Just like everyone else.

As everyday ends, it fills itself
Holding the reader captive
Wanting for what comes next,
And at the same time
Writing history for others to come.

At the end of my life, the book will be full
But for now
I have a book filled with blank pages
Open to whatever the future holds.


Teacups & Candles

Like a teacup  a candle holds many things.
Joy, delicious smells, and warmth to name a few.
My mother has both a teacup and a candle collection
I believe has these for a reason.
When you are sitting alone in the peace of your home
Your mind tends to wander.
You look at various things not even thinking really,
Until your eye rests upon the candle you have burning on your mantle.
You look at the mesmerizing flame and feel its warmth
Smell its lovely smell, and feel joy through those things.
All the while, you have a tea cup in your hand.
It too is warm from the liquid inside
Which flows down your throat in a temperate stream
To make you feel tepid all over,
The beverage inside your teacup also has an infatuating smell
That you drink in with your nose
And gives you soft fuzzies
Teacups and candles are not as different.


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