June Maxwell
Silloth-On-Solway, UK
June MaxwellSilloth-On-Solway, UK |
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I was born near Five Ways, Birmingham, Warwickshire. I served an apprenticeship at a local dressmaker before later learning to be a Furrier, then a G.P.O. telegraphist. My education was acquired at R.A.F. College, Cranwell learning procedure and teleprinting. After that, I became a morse slip reader. I studied still life art at Cumbria Art and Design College. My honors include a special commendation, National Poet of the Year 1996 and an Editor's Choice Award; Diploma of Merit, 1st class honors; Certificate of Merit in Lyric Writing Massachutus. I have a son, the Superintendent of the Control Ambulance Room. I enjoyed writing a play for children and acting a small part myself. I also enjoyed watching the children's participation from the audience. |
Fleeting ShadowsHyacinths threading through the midnight air Darting a perfume of thistledown there Beneath the park, a tranquilled scene Glittering with pebbles which have been, Daily abandoned with rainbow hues Lovers walking the path of life they choose Hand in hand making a future secure To each other this spell of magic allure. Will they return, perhaps again to capture Walks filled with talk, youths gay laughter As the tiny bridge spans their imagery Where the pebbles were thrown again so abandondly Glistening in the water with the suns rays The fond farewell, the spanning of days Silhouetted figures on a raftered seat Time will be kind, when their memories meet. | The Acorn BedBut not so simply, to lend an ear For fear the frogs would know it To find you in your resting place They would then overthrow it This dome so small with cup to hide The strength, the forceful power The oak of pride Secured in earth, so strong to greet the hour Great winds pursue another dawn Not touching through the bracken Sheltered so tight in Mother Earth This miracle soon to happen The thrusting leaves break through the soil So damp and dark with ages Perhaps a primrose here and there This tree to grow in stages Then soon one day this mighty oak Will reproduce her glory When acorns fall again so free Enhancing every story At last, at last, the day is here To spread her leaves so fine Her nest of acorns now secure Will see the march of time The ripeness bursts, the heaviness hangs These elevating leaves The thudding thudding to the ground The sap of great oak trees! |