Margaret Fieland: Poetry and Prose


Posted in Uncategorized by Administrator on the May 18th, 2006

Welcome to my poetry page.

Here you will find a sample of my poetry. The first one below is an old one I wrote one year when contemplating what to put into a Christmas letter. I never did write one that year.

Names Changed to Protect the Innocent

I am writing you this letter,
I had hoped things would be better
than they were the year before.

I am sorry I’ve not written
but it’s really hard to fit in,
I am sure you know the score.

I am hoping you are all well.
Did you hear my husband Al fell?
It has really been a bore.

We found that his leg was broken
when he went to let the folks in
and was answering the door.

He went and slipped on the ice.
He grabbed the rail but no dice;
getting up was quite a chore.

We took him right to the doctor;
the bad break has really shocked her.
His leg’s still really sore.

And my Mary’s back to drinking,
you can hear the glasses clinking
And she drinks more than before.

We were hoping she’d stay sober,
that her drinking days were over
and her drinking was no more.

Alas it was all a vain hope.
She says that she needs it to cope,
She finds holidays a chore.

And my Al has started smoking;
even though he’s always choking
he just keeps on smoking more.

James is smoking like his father,
it is really quite a bother;
I don’t need to tell you more.

And our Sally’s started dating
a boy Al is really hating
and the rest of us adore.

All the rest of us are betting
there will surely be a wedding,
maybe June if not before.

Little Gary’s grades are falling;
it is really quite appalling.
He won’t study any more.

I’ve tried everything they told us.
We have all made quite a big fuss
and we’ve added to his chores.

Nothing that we’ve tried helps at all.
We have just run into a wall,
I just want to slam the door.

I hope that your news is better
than the news that’s in this letter.
I feel I’ve been in a war.

I have written you all my news.
Please write back to me when you choose.
Love to everyone, Lenore

Green on Thursdays

Where I was born, the world ended
at the Hudson River
and Sixth Avenue

was still one block west of Fifth.

In my neighborhood
you never wore orange on Saint Patrick’s day,
never mind if you weren’t Irish.

Better to wear green,
unless it fell on a Thursday,
because then they might think you were,
you know,

one of Them.

Maybe I’ll just wear blue.


I don’t want to hear how unhappy you are
because I didn’t buy any Roast Beef at the deli
or because I made Chili from Dave’s recipe
with the six tablespoons of Chili powder
and Minestrone
with the rind from the Parmesan cheese in the broth
just like Marcella does.

It was enough to make me want to hit you
with the soup pot.

And if you’re ever happy with my cooking,
then please tell me.

But I’m not holding my breath.

About Java

This poem came about as a result of an early morning trip to the dentist and my sister’s coffee drinking habits. I was coming out of the dentist’s office when it occurred to me that what I really needed was “a close encounter of the caffeinated kind.” The phrase just popped into my head.

Then I started thinking about my sister: before automatic coffee makers became popular, she used to make a single cup of coffee, using a one cup drip device that sat on top of her mug, before measuring out the coffee for the pot: otherwise she was too groggy to measure the coffee and water correctly.

She never used instant and she bought herself a pot long before I wrote this poem.


I hear that close encounters of the caffeinated kind
can get my sister going and rejuvenate her mind.
She makes it in a drip pot with a very special grind
that she says is quite expensive and quite difficult to find.
She says she needs to make a cup before she makes a pot;
I think she uses instant and she really likes it hot.
She says that if she doesn’t then her measurements are shot,
but if she drinks the one cup first it really helps a lot.
I have a coffee maker with a timer you can set.
I looked it up with google and I bought it off the net.
I set it up the night before so I don’t need to fret.
I haven’t had a problem with that coffee maker yet.

I think my sis should get one and I plan to tell her so.
It’s really quite convenient so I think that she should know.
It will save time in the morning when she paces to and fro
while waiting for the level in her coffee pot to grow

Then she’ll have joined the new age right along with all of us.
We use coffee pots with timers and we do not make a fuss
You can have a pot all ready when you wake up and thus
a coffee pot like that one really will be quite a plus.

3 Responses to 'Poetry'

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  1. Bob Ruehrdanz said,

    on February 13th, 2008 at 8:20 pm

    You have a wonderful sense of humor and a keen understanding of the language. Keep writing… whether it’s poetry, prose or fiction. You are a winner.

  2. Jan said,

    on May 22nd, 2008 at 9:59 pm

    Hey! Nice poetry site. My son says the blue and yellow line makes him dizzy (nothing new).

    I like the poetry.


  3. Jessica Kennedy said,

    on May 22nd, 2008 at 11:47 pm

    I enjoyed your poetic java romp. Thanks for sharing.

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