Poet, Audrey Austin

Poet, Audrey Austin
This site is to honour my mother, poet, Eva Ruby Austin.

Monday, August 14, 2017

Happy Birthday in Heaven - a poem by Eleanor Lambert

Another birthday for our dear & wonderful Mom

Imagine, she would now be one hundred and eleven. 

Yes, twenty seven yrs. ago she left this shore

And she is with Jesus in heaven forever more.
 

There are so many memories as we think of her each day

And I know you agree that we miss her more than words can say. 

She set so many examples for us we appreciate so

As we strive to be like her always has been our goal.
 

Belated ”Happy Birthday” in Heaven Mom.  

Sunday, June 18, 2017

Weary - a poem by Audrey Austin


Weary

Weary woman worries when
The door is shut
On hope that drowns
In white envelopes
Piling up on table
Demanding satisfaction
Threatening to kill the little faith
That barely floats above the stack.

The Waitress - a poem by Audrey Austin

THE WAITRESS

Wet rag wipes the table
Serviettes  wrap the stainless
Smile glued at the corners
She pretends it is painless.

It’s too hot; it’s too cold
It’s still raw; it is burned
The cook pays no mind
While the server is spurned.

Shifts short; she is part-time
Reliant on tips
She swallows her tears
With a smile on the lips.

The Lonely Poet (a tribute to my mother) - a poem by Audrey Austin

The Lonely Poet
Audrey Austin

She worked hard
throughout her life
shared days of joy
and those of strife
but right or wrong.

That’s how it was for Ruby.

Aging widow
dark of night
she misses her children
and doesn’t feel right
but now alone
with pen she scribes
undaunted.

Writes down
the joy, the pain
scratches out a line
then writes again
but heart and soul
she shares her life
the poet.



THE not so famous WRITER - a poem by Audrey Austin

THE not so famous WRITER

By Audrey Austin

Hours, days and weeks
In the chair
Fingers tougher
Than the heart
Which breaks
With each rejection.
Blank keys as
Worn as she feels
In the block.

I Followed My Heart to 108 - a poem by Audrey Austin (original version)

I FOLLOWED MY HEART TO 108

Audrey Austin.

My dream was alive when I woke up this morning
I tried to ignore it but make no mistake
I followed my heart up the 108 Highway
To the beautiful City of Elliot Lake.

Along dream-catching deer trail my eager eyes feast
Proud Maple, Pine, Spruce; no tree stands alone
Love flows like blue water in myriad lakes
My mind is at peace because I’m coming home.

Today we celebrate sixty years strong
We all stand together as we sing along
We sing to our future yet honour our past
Elliot Lake is our jewel; it’s where we belong.

There’s much more to say but I’ll tell you this way
I lost my heart on the highway that day
To the beautiful jewel that is Elliot Lake
Here’s to the new home that I’m going to make.

Impatience - a poem by Audrey Austin

IMPATIENCE

Impatient, we sit,
Four women in hospital gowns,
Nurse keeps busy with drops
In eyes, one after another.

Impatient, we gather,
Ten women in hospital corridor,
Eyes, antiseptic orange
In wheelchairs we wait.

Impatient, nurse pushes
Conveyor belt women,
Chairs one after another
To operating room.

Now it’s my turn,
I’m pushed past my fear
Impatient no more,
I glide through the door.

On table I lay,
It’s a cataract day.

To Love Again - a poem by Audrey Austin

To Love Again

By Audrey Austin
 
Long ago love let me down
and left me wandering,
wondering how I could
trust again.

Tears drowned my anger.
My heart, cold and bitter
broke into muddled bits
of frozen fear that refused
to melt into vulnerability.

Love let me down
but time brought reprieve,
rest, and recompense
from one who cared,
one who shared,
one who taught me to forgive,
to let go, let feelings flow
to a safe place where I could
smile and love again.

Love  led me into darkness
before lifting me to light,
Yes, love lifted me
And love's name was
Brian.

For all the Great Dads out there!


My Dad - a poem by Eleanor Lambert, Bermuda

  My Dad
                  
How lovingly I remember my Dad,
Some days happy & some days sad,
He always did his best to do the right
To guide his family both day and night.

Times were not easy I remember it well,
Many times he struggled & sometimes he fell,
Forgiveness he asked and God in His love,
Looked down with compassion from Heaven above.

He left us many years ago when just a very young man
His younger children hardly knew him well,
But I his eldest daughter remember the story to tell.

He worked very hard every single day,
At a place contributing to his health in every way.
We did not know it at the time but was full of asbestos
And other life threatening Kine.

The shift work was also very hard on him,
Very hard on his wife & his children too,
And yes he suffered each and every day,
Unable to afford a Dr. to help him along the way.

We had food on our table, clothes on our back
And the things we needed we did not lack.
He was a very good husband and a wonderful Dad,
As he worked hard every day even when he felt bad.

"You are Indispensable" he said to me one day,
That lesson I learned well, it stays with me always.

He taught me many lessons in the short years he lived
    Until God called him home still a very young man.
                   I speak of none other than
                         Guy Lester Austin
                        Our Wonderful Dad.

              "Happy Fathers Day in Heaven Dad".



Sunday, October 30, 2016

Have a fun but safe Hallowe'en!

A year has gone by and it's Hallowe'en night,
A time when we actually hope for a fright,
A dark scary time
Is the theme of this rhyme,



Friday, August 12, 2016

LOOKING FOR AN ANSWER; a poem by Ron Stewart

Looking for an answer
in this world today ...
Hate, hurt, and wars,
It's a wonder we are sane at all.

All around us
thieving and drugs ...
Mistrust and grieving
Seems like it's a must.

Can't walk the streets at night
Or trust the safety of parks
for children to play,
We always have to be aware.

What a terrible world
it has become,
For us to bear these things
and just go on.

But for the young
this will be their past.
To walk by a starving man
in the streets ..
as if he's not even a human being.

It's sad to see
the world we are leaving
for the young.
They will have to be very strong.

The world is too big to change,
What is the answer to this hell game?


Friday, August 5, 2016

Happy Birthday in Heaven by Eleanor Lambert

There was a woman so gentle and kind,
not a day goes by she does not come to mind.
A woman who sacrificed day & night
and could stretch a dollar like the widows mite.

She had very little to make ends meet,
yet her children always had plenty to eat.
There's no doubt in my mind, she was a miraculous person,
Through her sacrifices and love I know for certain,

she is receiving the fruits of her labour
in Heaven above with Jesus her Saviour....
I speak about none other than
Eva Ruby McNeil Austin my precious mom.


Happy Birthday in Heaven Mom.

Friday, July 1, 2016

Happy Canada Day 2016!


For The Love of Ki -- 2006 - June 11, 2016 Rest in peace, dear Ki.

FOR THE LOVE OF KI

I met him on a Friday
in the backyard of a friend
Those deep brown pools of love and need
Did common sense transcend.

By Wednesday I was baffled
Did not know what to do
His sloppy kiss and muddy feet
Across my floors; who knew?

Who knew that I could overlook
This gift of chaos in my life?
Black shining head upon my knee
Became my strength to deal with strife.

His love is unconditional
My love for him is real
Living with my Mastiff friend
Awakened me to feel.

To feel annoyance; yes, at times
While vacuuming the hair
But to feel this inner peace and joy
This love Ki freely shares

Is more than I have ever known
With him, I'm not alone
For Ki I thank my God above
How blessed I am to know this love.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

My Dad ....... a poem by Eleanor Lambert

  My Dad

How lovingly I remember our Dad,
Some days good ,some days sad,
He did his best to do the right
To guide his family day and night.

Times were not easy, I remember it well
Many times he struggled, sometimes he fell
Forgiveness he asked and God in His love
Looked down with compassion from Heaven above.

He taught me many lessons
In the short years he lived
God called him home while very young
Still many memories abide within.

You are indispensable he said to me one day,
That lesson I learned well it stays with me always.
    Happy Fathers Day to our Dad in Heaven,
         
        And to all Fathers we  know and love,
                    who are with us today.


.....Eleanor Lambert, Bermuda

Monday, February 29, 2016

The Knight of The Realm .... a poem honouring a friend .... by Audrey Austin


THE KNIGHT OF THE REALM



The Knight of the realm is both gracious and kind,

His food for the soul leaves no one behind.

In touch with nature, compassionate giving,

Timeless food that he offers is everlasting.

He hungers for truth and the journey he shares

Is much sweeter fruit than apples or pears.

He does not try to teach yet the learning is good,

What he offers the world is the best of soul food.

Thursday, December 31, 2015

Welcome 2016!

Peace, good health, prosperity, and dreams come true for you in 2016. Love & hugs from Brian, Ki, and me.

Happy New Year!


Wednesday, December 16, 2015

A Christmas Wish -- a poem by Audrey Austin

A CHRISTMAS WISH



A time of love, a time for sharing
Let's find new ways to light the path
While old traditions tried and true
Express how much we're caring
For our family
For our friends
For people 'round our hungry world.

A time of peace, a time for laughter
Let's find new ways to share the love
While old relationships hold fast
We'll open hearts, extend our reach
To neighbours near
To neighbours far,
To those with whom we've yet to meet.

A time of joy, a time to remember
The holy birth of the blessed child
Who gave us the reason
To celebrate this season
A season of love, of caring, of sharing,
Love will brighten the path of all who are weary.
Hold the light, share the light, be the light.

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, October 29, 2015

IN MEMORY OF MOM - a poem by Eleanor Lambert

IN MEMORY OF MOM

It's hard to believe 25 yrs have gone by
Since our Mom went to her home in the sky,
To be with her Savior she served and loved
To the home prepared for her in Heaven above.

We have many memories of times together,
She was full of life and love no matter the weather.
Never a dull moment when with our Mom.

She made us laugh until we cried
Oh the fun we had just being by her side.
Now we are all looking forward to the day
When we'll be together in our Home far away.

I hope we will all be ready when time comes to die,
So we'll be with her and Jesus in our Home on high.

Monday, August 17, 2015

It Happened On a Monday ...... a poem by Audrey Austin


IT HAPPENED ON A MONDAY

Each had a plan of action
One with pen and one with sword,
Each believing he was right,
Brothers, both determined.
News reports were read and
Furthermore
They said one killed the dreams
Of many who, like fools,
Believed it safe to think big thoughts;
Envision change and
After all
They were just kids, two students
At the local school; one who wanted
Love to conquer bullying,

Stamp out hate, and so
It happened that he wrote it down.
And on a Monday
he read his words aloud
to others who would listen.
He shared his truth in voice so clear
One boy, alone, he felt no fear
A shot rang out
And then another,
Victims both the papers said.
Their world impure; two boys are dead,

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Just Believe - a poem by Rima N. Jaber

Just Believe

I believe in light and hope,
I believe in peace and love,
I believe in Angels and God,


I fly between the particles of light and hope,
I give you my hand, join me,
To reach the holiness and glory,

I flow on the waves of peace and love,
I beg you be one with me,
To shine all over the world brightly,

I talk to God and Angels,
Pray with me and reach godly ecstasy,
To be a shining bridge of Earth and Heaven gloriously,

Be the light and hope,
Be peace and love,
Be the Angel with God blessings divinity.

I love you.

{{OneLove}}
Rima N. Jaber
© 13, August, 2015

Our Mom -- a poem by Eleanor Lambert, Bermuda.

OUR MOM

SHE WAS A GEM, OUR MOTHR SO DEAR,
HOW OFTEN WE WISH THAT SHE WAS STILL HERE.

THE JOY SHE BROUGHT US EACH AND EVERY DAY,
MADE US ALWAYS FEEL SO HAPPY AND GAY.

WE THINK OF HER ALWAYS AS EACH DAY GOES BY.
.SHE IS NOW WITH HER SAVIOUR IN HEAVEN ON HIGH.

WE WISH BIRTHDAY GREETINGS TO OUR MOM ABOVE,
FROM HER FAMILY BELOW WITH ALL OF OUR LOVE.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY
MOM.




Monday, July 6, 2015

Ride the Fire - a poem by Jenna Cornell

Excerpt from Fantastic Illusions of Life, Love, the Bird, and the Bees:

Ride the Fire

I want to extinguish myself from this world. Go out like a raging fire; where only coals remain. Break free from confines, tie lines, and chains.

I want to float away on winds across the earth. Burst through the clouds; dare to fly. Soar in the heavens, the Milky Way, into the forbidden sky.

I want to ride on starlight chariots. Race through constellations; scatter the speed of light. Dance on Saturn's rings, comet tails, into the black and white.

I want to extinguish myself from this world. Go out like a raging fire, where only coals remain. Break free from confines, tie line, and chains...away from foolish games.


The collection is titled Fantastic Illusions of Life, Love, the Birds, and the Bees. It contains 38 poems centered on love, life, dreams, and romantic illusions. The collection is available through Amazon.com as a paperback and also on Kindle. I have included below one of the poems from the collection.



Jenna Cornell
Writer, Instructor, Musician.

About the Author

Jenna Cornell has a MA in English and Creative Writing. She holds a BA in English: Creative Writing and Theatre. An active writer since a very young age, she has since seen her work published in The Northern Lights Arts Journal, The Manifest, Sheepshead Review, The Fourth Estate, Mauthe Center Magazine, Examiner.com, Virtual Music Cafe and had plays read at Theatre on the Bay. In 2014, she her short screenplay "Hunk of Burning Love" and made it into the Top 50 Quarterfinals in the Canadian Short Screenplay Competition. Fantastic Illusions of Life, Love, the Birds, and the Bees made its debut in 2015. She is currently working on a variety of writing and music projects.

Friday, April 3, 2015

Friday, March 27, 2015

Dear Family of Mine - a poem by Norma Albrecht


Dear Family of Mine
 
Lovely are the thoughts and deeds of friends so grand and true,
Dearest are their worth and most loved in all they do,
Welcome smiles,when traveled miles return you once again,
My heart is right there with them,though far away I am, 
 
Such a treat to sit and greet,and share the latest news with My dear friends,
Have a tea,a laugh and be ourselves without any need to pretend,
My family so dear and sweet,I love to spend some time,
The heart does fonder grow you know when apart too long we find,
I am so fortunate to have the friends and family I've got,
Just to name a few of them ,,There is Fred And there Is Scott,
My dear Mother and Her sisters,Such a wonderful crew,
My cousins ,nieces ,and My own children, My husband Raymond too,
They make My life ,would not be nice to not have all of them,
My nephews and My Grandchildren ,so many women and dear Men,
My Uncles were of many,they now are of few,
My Grandparents may God bless them,and all that they did do,
Like a great and flourished tree,
Branches from the strongest foundation we,
Our Brothers and Sisters,one and all,
May our way be blessed and our blessed Savior call,
One by one we leave and wait,
One by one our final day,
One by one ,may we again then each other find,
One by one ,dear family of mine,,,
 
Norma Albrecht.

FINALLY FREE - a poem by Norma Albrecht

Finally Free
 
Free, free ,to be set free,
Nothing to fear, nothing to plead,
Free, free, from all that is wrong,
Free to not wonder where we belong,
Have you ever been free,from worry and care,
Have you ever been free ,have you been there,
Have you ever been free,and light as the wind,
Have you ever been free,have you My friend,
I visited freedom,there was nothing to hide,
I visited freedom,It took Me inside,
I visited freedom,but I could not stay,
The cares of this world called Me back again,
I will go back,when it is time,
I will go back ,to freedom divine,
Such a wonderful place,it is to be,
Where only love lives,and it loves Me,
This world and its problems,are for us to see,
What it will be like,to finally be free,
Without cares and problems,of every kind,
What would we know of appreciation,for the divine,
Though we would rather be happy,no care in this world,
Each of us need,to learn of good and evil,each boy and each girl,
So much to learn,so much to see,
Until we are finally ,,oh finally free,,,,
 
Norma Albrecht.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

SPRING - a poem by Eva Ruby Austin

SPRING

Although the sky is Azure Blue,
Today the sun shines brightly too,
Its very presence seems to say
Remember Spring is on its way.

'Twill not be long before the trees,
Will bloom again and have new leaves,
The Robins,  then will come to say,
Remember! Spring is on its way.

How wonderful it is to know,
That lying lifeless in the snow,
The grass is waiting to be seen
In all it's beauty fresh and green

The flowers too, will wake to say
Remember! Spring is on the way,
To Mother Nature's' beckoning call
They hasten promptly one and all.

Eva Ruby  Austin.

Friday, February 6, 2015

WEEP - a poem by Cindy J. Smith

WEEP

As you stand by my grave
Please do not weep for me
For from the shackles of life's woes
I am finally free

Weep for the homeless
Trying hard to cope
As they face each day
Without any hope

Weep for the greedy
Whether rich or poor
Who ignore what they have
Their hands held out for more

Weep for those who hunger
Makes them roam the streets
Searching through dumpsters
For something to eat

Weep for the young soldiers
Sent abroad to war
Who wonder what all
The destruction and death is for

Weep for the Veterans
Who every day face
The horrors they have seen
That their minds can't erase

Weep for the abused
Who fear for their life
Too scared to leave
Lover, husband or wife

Weep for those young women
Who just sought an escape
That got caught in the sex trades
And feel it's their fate

Weep for the addict
Be it alcohol or drugs
Unable to face a world
Where they feel so unloved

Weep for the children
Who are no longer shown
Only by being responsible
Are you ever truly grown

Weep for the single mothers
Who work night and day
Trying to make a home
So their child will be safe

Weep for the world
Filled with violence and hate
That instead of solving problems
Just holds lots of debates

I will weep for you
And stand by you each day
Hoping my tears will
Wash your grief away


© Cindy J. Smith

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

ALAS - a poem by Cindy J. Smith

ALAS

It seems that life
Is so unfair
When failing health...
Causes one despair


Tempted to cry
Oh, Woe is me
Invite all to
Pity Party

But take a look
See others who
Are so much worse
Off than poor you

Child with cancer
Fighting for life
Husband grieving
Loss of his wife

Woman who had
Baby stillborn
Her hopes and dreams
Completely torn

Families in
War zone country
Daily seeking
A bit of safety

Your condition
Is in new light
When others needs
Are in your sight

© Cindy J. Smith

Saturday, January 31, 2015

Here Is My Feast Of Crystal Splendor - a poem by Tasha Halpert


Here Is My Feast Of Crystal splendor

 

Now the landscape is still.

Grasses are stiff, rimed with frost.

Bare trees sleep,

dreaming of warmth as yet  distant.

But a new beauty imbues their branches

their essential selves emerge

in a pattern of graceful tracery

against the winter sky.

 

 

I am become ice

caressing the garden with my cold kisses,

taming wavelets to stillness.

Here is my feast of crystal splendor

displayed in masses of diamonds

that sparkle everywhere to see.

How beautiful I am, and how pristine.

Relish my beauty,  but do not touch me

lest you suffer from the frost.

 

I magnify the light,

extending its power to dazzle the eye.

Soft snow shrouds me in a white fur cloak,

muffling sound, softening hard edges.

But I crack branches,

scour stones, and buffet cliffs.

Locked out of life I pry at openings to get in.

I am envious of warmth, 

and will not melt before my time,

nor give way when the light begins to lengthen.

 

Some call me cruel, others kind,

knowing that  all life needs to sleep,

that old forms crumble to make way for new.

But  light  persists. At last  I soften in the warmth,

beguiled,  I loosen my clasp until

irresistibly compelled I yield myself at last

to Spring's embrace and fall asleep

to drowse the warm away,

knowing that I will wake again one day.

 

Tasha Halpert

Saturday, January 17, 2015

The Apples and The Cantaloupes - a poem by Jurgen Braunohler

THE APPLES AND THE CANTALOUPES

The World is such a fruity place,
You can toss it for a loop.
My Mother was the juggling Ace ...
With Apples and the Cantaloupes.


Sweets and fruits a-plenty
Were the visions in her childhood mind.
War and poverty left her hungry
In ways that were just most unkind.

She left behind that ravaged land
And came by ship to Canada.
What she saw then was so grand:
With fruits that made her shout "Aha!"

Our kitchen had enough to spare
With food from every group,
But always in the corner
Were the Apples and the Cantaloupes.

My Mother was a wonder
With all the things that she could do.
Whenever I had a question,
She reached for a handy Cantaloupe.

"Mummy, how are babies made?"
This posed no major problem:
An Apple and a Cantaloupe
Sure gave the explanation.

Questions about the Sun and Moon?
Why we have our night and day?
A flashlight on some dancing fruits
Lit things right away.

Evenings on the sofa
In our stormbound summer cottage,
A plate of peaches came at me:
Good health was Mother's message.

But when girls became the issue
 and this boy got quite silly,
"I'll fix your wagon, you!"
Was my seasoned Mother's play.

She sent me to an artists' school
To sketch and draw bare naked women.
I came home each time in a state of drool,
But my Mother saw the omen.

I feasted on this subject daily,
In every shape and form,
Until I got so fully sated
That I became quite bored.

Women, Apples, Cantaloupes,
The Baubles dancing in my brain,
Became so really tedious
That I wanted off the train.

With all my drawings done and stuffed into my tote,
Mother asked me once again just what it was I drew...
As my Baubles now were sailboats,
She winked and passed the Cantaloupe!

Jurgen Braunohler,
Mother's Day, 2010.


Friday, January 16, 2015

PETER THE SWELL - a poem by Jurgen Braunohler

PETER THE SWELL. 

 There's a noble fleet of whalers, somewhere in Newfielands. 
 They're sailed by Peter Myers and his crew of Merry Hams. 
 They sing right in the shower. They sing far out at sea. 
 They sing way up at Eddie Blacks, and 'round the Christmas tree (Yo!)

Peter is a swell guy, who sailed the Newfie seas. 
 He steamed across to Port au Basques in a great and merry breeze. 
 He didn't have his dinner, and he didn't have his tea. 
 But he had his darling Newfie wife, and to Twillingate went he

Now Jurgen is a bugger, who will sail to Port au Basques. 
 He'll swim across the Cabot Strait, when his sailboat breaks its mast. 
 He'll never have his dinner, and he'll never have his tea. 
 He doesn't even have a wife! So he's gone to find one, see?

When the years have gone and passed us, and we've retired from the sea,
we'll sit around at Port au Basques, and drink our Newfie tea. 
 We'll have our darling wifiedoos, and eat our dinners too.
  Hopefully we'll live that long, sooooooo, Happy New Year, to You!

             a note from  the poet, Jurgen Braunohler:   One more thing:  Black's was a photo lab, and I was belting out sea songs in the darkroom to Peter's amusement.  I mention this so you will know what all the Blacks and singing business is about.




 
 

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

There's a Bitter-Sweetness here -- a poem by Yotanka Coicou

Every expiration teaches something
Death-destined....tender rasping

The drip drip of intravenous existence
Where words run on for much too long

We have never been closer....they say
Yet....you're not the flesh....we knew

There's a bitter-sweetness here
We can't endure

The wailing
We have not yet composed

The shooting star is dead
We lie....wrapped in abstraction

So lonely....so lonely together
So many ancient questions

Fester beneath the skin
In the progression of discrete collapse

The sliced Earth waits for burial
A cemetery....for trusting seeds

We shake the nettles from our clothes
The burrs....clinging for....dear life

Oracle....for no written word
Bellows....that spark

By permission of the author,
Yotanka Coicou
©  Telling Tales   2010