Edna Mae Donaldson

Ajax, Ontario, Canada

I was born in Alberta, Canada, on a homestead my parents had cleared from the bush in 1912. I am one of eight children. I am the mother of four, the grandmother of nine, and the great grandmother of four. My love of books has taken me around the world. I have visited far away lands and I have learned customs different from my own. Oh, the knowledge I have gained! Through the years I have written many poems. I have had them printed in the "Edmonton Journal", published in "Island Sunsets" and in "Reflections of Moonlight" from the Poetry Institute of Canada, and in "Shadows and Light" from the National Library of Poetry. I also have had a few of my poems read on a great Canadian children's program called "Romper Room".

My Goal

If I succeed and pass the heights,
I've set myself within my sights.

I'll know for sure I have achieved,
The very heights I did perceive.

I cannot stem desire,
That burns within my soul,

Consuming me with fire,
So I may reach my goal.

Laugher and Tears

Where has all the laugher gone?
In this house that was a home,
That echoed from the rafters,
Before the children roamed,
Where is all the happiness?
That made this house home.
That caressed and blessed, this haven of a home.
Where is all the pitter-patter of tiny dimpled feet,
That toddled here and toddled there, from all
who were so sweet.
Where is all the laughter, mingling with the tears.
That's disappeared along with time,
And the passing of the years.

A Fantasy Journey

I'll dance a jig and off my hat, I'll wave goodbye, I won't be back.
For I'm taking off for faraway places, to see the sites and enter the races

Hop in a train, fly in a plane, happy am I to wander a lane.
Climb a mountain, sail the seas and ride a donkey where I please.

Daring the desert to swallow me, damning the jungle to wallop me.
I'll linger awhile in a grass hut, cleanse my soul right out of the rut.

I'll sit on my haunches around a fire and watch with delight the pygmies desire.
To prance and dance and make voodoo, by drums my dears, I'll contact you.

Take off again and ride my broom through starlit skies right to the moon.
Knock on wood I'll hear your call, I'll be in China climbing the great wall.

From Bethlehem midst great religion, I'll send a message by carrier pigeon.
I'll muster my courage, stalk a lion and listen to the coyotes crying.

I'll traipse to Paris to see the tower, taste the wine and keep a late hour.
Then off to Rome to visit the Pope, turn on my charm and ask for hope.
To hurl me to the Alps you see, so I can yodel and I can ski.

Then off to good old Britain I'll go, to see the palace and see the show.
While there my dears I will take care to hurdle a love note through the air.
Across the oceans and over the land, sent to you by my own hand.

I will come back, I promise that, put on a smile and top my hat.
Be content to stay awhile, then off again for many a mile.