Queen à la Marie Antoinette
Come, let us toast, today and evermore,
Madame La Pompadour - Queen à la
Marie Antoinette - of Civil Servants
When continuous absence without leave
was revealed Management refused to be
blamed and called her breach of Labour
Regulations a regrettable psychiatric event
managers prove they were innocent by
rewarding her innovative behaviour
Building her a new office so she can come
and go as she wants, accountable to no-one,
no manager thus in dereliction of duty
Let us toast the eternal reign of the Miracle-
Working Madame La Pompadour, Scourge
of all Government Departments
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Seaport Of Beni Ansar
Interpol sent me off to research the Seaport of
Beni Ansar called ‘alhaj jimi ahmed' according
to Wikimapia sounding a warning: Beware of
filthy, sleazy Moroccan men waiting outside
all nice hotels, seaports, bus & train stations
I sighed, following my role models Miss Lemon
and Miss Moneypenny I am stuck behind my
desk, only fantasise about sleazy types, being
so conventional, they don't even spare me a
glance, cultivation of a haughty demeanour
Has never been required in my little life, I smile
at everyone I pass and seldom need to fend off
an unwanted advance, maybe once - it is rather
sad when sleazy, filthy types do not even touch
the carefully designed collage of my life…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Awful Dance (Revised)
I changed into a road-hog today, became guilty
when a black car swept into the right lane where
I drove peacefully in a Zen trance - then slowed,
other cars passed on the left, this unleashed my
anger and when the miscreant car signalled left
I accelerated to pass and guess what: the pest
turned back right in front of me
After repeating the awful dance, me trying to
overtake on the gravelly roadside, fury made
me blind, finally it left and I ended up seething
behind a slow bus and swerved right in front of
a frowning lady driving a white monstrosity who
hooted at me, I waved in apology but her frown
stayed frozen in place, I sighed - the ugly black
car had ruined my peaceful identity…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Homage to First Dreams
Tidying my work station I look at all the books
around me, Explication de texte by Boilly-Widmer,
containing some favourites: Le Ciel est par-dessus
le toit by Verlaine; Ballade des Dames du temps jadis
by François Villon, also
Astrology, Palmistry and Dreams by Donald Law -
though I use it to prop up my keyboard - still, it can
be read should I want to look up anything about
Astrogenetics and sun signs - even The Children's
Encyclopedia is here - for remembrance
Childhood's fantasies brought me here, I shall always
pay homage to the first dreams I had of being able to
speak in many tongues, and the music of the songs
my mother made us sing as toddlers - Frère Jacques
and Muss'I denn…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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She Is Unique
Mom's surgery today, though her behaviour is
infuriating and my (self-) righteous indignation
excruciating - I'm dying in my skin, waiting to
hear the report from sis who argued with mom
on their way to the hospital - mom insisting to
greet a friend - then being late
Whatever outcome, I must be informed, I walk
up and down - haunted - a spirit possessed -
how shall I deal with the result - what is to be
PLEASE let me know - mom is irrational but
then she has always been; even if she were
oblivious to our existence, it is great
To know her; though an Astrogenetic Leo like
mom creates problems, she is also unique
and her heart is BIG - much bigger than
yours and mine!
...18 July 2012 …
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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An Invasion
Given the freedom to choose whom
I would love, I chose you - and daily I
try to plumb the depths of your heart
and provide a safe space where you
can live your dreams and ideas
As you struggle with the boundaries
of reality, spoiling those you love yet
also instilling discipline - I feel your
frustration as new possibilities run
away creating new events which
You did not want to invade our life
where our home is our castle and
strangers are not free to roam; as
you grumble about the prospect
of an invasion by young aliens
I understood how precious you see
our life, how carefully you arrange
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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In Heaven
Two Leo’s in class – French professeur from Alliançe
Française and student from le Service du Changement
Climatique who wrote a a theme song for COP, oh wow,
what joy, my professeur hates grammar and politics as
much as I do
Speaks Afrikaans fluently, hates acronyms, refuses to look
at them, loves teaching, gave up translation as boring, talks
to her computer; Shumi, student who sings songs & dresses
beautifully; starting on Gaulois, ending up with Camel before
Marius ran off
We talked about maquillage - not wearing make-up and having
fun – finally my patience paid off, no need to fall asleep in a
class discussing cut-throat politics – I must have died
and woken in heaven - methinks!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Cresting Wave Upon Wave
How do I thank someone
who defended me against
a bully, how express my
gratitude and joy when
someone beautiful, with
a sweet disposition - so
mischievous and brilliant -
takes my side
Do I jump up and down -
shine with the sun, smile
at everyone, sing a song
or meditate on the delight
of a most accomplished
and intelligent, attractive
and wonderful person
Fighting for my rights -
how convey my thanks
in terms that would do
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Encircling Embrace [Revised]
A little message to translate, of marigolds
and chrysanthemums shining in gold and
burnished copper on a plate - André Rieu’s
orchestra playing joyously - my heart
blossoming in a new romance with life
Warm words shining sunshine in my heart,
feelings expanding, encompassing every
manifestation of life, swelling music of
Olé Guapa setting skin alight - sizzling -
feet tapping – stepping high to music,
held within an encircling embrace
Powerful invisible romantic feeling, all-
knowing, energetic, exuberant, filling
my being, loving presence radiating
comfort, understanding, confidence and
encouragement, sunshine of your
beautiful words shimmering, irresistible
rhythm of nostalgic melody…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Quiet Path
Friday afternoon fatigue, chocolate
counterpoint against chips and tea,
an undercover spy posing as a kind
saleslady refuses me a Russian roll
I end up eating a cheese-steak pie
No longer able to make my way on
the quiet path between Soul Music
& an article on the square kilometre
telescope array - warning the poor
might just steal radio antenna sets
Since government invests in street
name changes only, Pretoria to be-
come Tshwane which rhymes with
Polokwane; being concerned with
petty things the telescope seems
A bit of an overkill for a populace
struggling with life on earth - - no
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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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