My Father, Stan
Family
Bright Yellow Chairs
Bright Yellow Chairs
a cool day by cold water
beneath a moody winter sky
mountains in the distance
bright yellow chairs in a row
beautiful to behold
strong enough supported
and anchored to withstand
fierce winds and stormy weather…
yesterday my daughter and I
took photos of her and me
my request- soon to be 73…
moments caught by technology
reminders for when I’m gone
or when she’s gone before me…
we sit on those deathly cold chairs
taking turns- laughing smiling
wrinkles erased by distance
battle-scars of weathered living
covered by warm coats of love…
my daughter and I- friends forever
together in so many lives
as with my son- family- friends
soul companions- friends forever…
undaunted by stormy worlds
though cold- uninviting- fierce
together we just jump in
staying a while- little or long…
photos taken- we moved on
to other scenes and other stories
experiences to live and to share
bringing the warmth of loving care…
March 9, 2023
Shelley Audrey Wilson
Victoria, BC
Vintage Photos
This red themed layout of my photos has pics of some of my family and myself. Beside the poinsettia is my deceased beloved Mother, Dixie.To the right is my darling daughter, Alissa, at graduation. Below left is my sweet sister, Bev and cousin Lori in red. To the right is my sweet sister Bev now in red here and to her right is a woodland photo taken of me.
Grandma’s Tales
a poem about my Grandma Dorothy H. Thicke nee Dacre
February 25, 2023
Shelley Audrey Wilson
Victoria, BC
Grandpa
Grandpa
My Grandpa fought for Freedoms
in the First and Second World Wars
(freedom from cruel dictatorships
spreading tyranny’s global reach…
like freedoms ‘just to live’, be who we are,
freedom of movement, of livelihood,
privacy, personal beliefs, free speech…
those rights and freedoms denied so many
or willingly given up to feel ‘safe and secure’.)
Wounded, then diagnosed with cancer,
the Doctors gave him a different fight,
‘not long to live’, they told him.
So, he fought again to stay alive
a little longer for people he loved
and for a garden full of flowers
that was his passion and his pride.
He wrote poetry in long, harsh Winters
in his chair by the frosted window.
Growing up with Grandpa and Grandma,
I’d often hear him in his ‘drill voice’ say,
“Dorothy, how do you spell…?” or
“What word rhymes with…?”
Grandma was his ‘go to’ in those days.
Poetry, for him, always needed to rhyme.
Perhaps his poems and flowers ‘saved’ him,
sharing his life that much longer
by staying with us and his flowers
well past his Doctors’ prognosis ‘deadline’,
fighting on for a good twenty years more.
Grandpa had left behind the horrors of War
and found Life well worth living
by creating beauty with love of sharing-
that opposite of the legacies of War.
That was my Grandpa, my hero, my mentor
who still inspires me to this day.
(Grandpa signed all his poems Charles H. (Chuck) Thicke)
February 25, 2023
Shelley Audrey Wilson
Victoria, BC
World View
World View
We’ve evolved to understand
the State of our World View-
that how wee see the World
is what we think and say and do.
Familiar Comforts of Traditions
in Cultures and Religions too,
passed on through Generations,
hold or bind us to our Past
Inspiring or even Oppressing
until we’re ‘Free At Last’.
What do we Welcome or Oppose?
What do we Embrace or Refuse?
How do we engage others-
especially those Different?
Is our Choice the Good Will Voice
of Tolerance and Acceptance
or is it Defence and Offence?
Is it Debate or Argument?
Debate can be a way
for us to Decide and Choose
what is still or now true for us,
whether ‘win’ or ‘lose’,
depending on our World Views.
Different perspectives,
even opposing viewpoints
in respectful discussions
can persuade and sway
with healthy conversations,
minds and hearts at work and play.
Rational Reason and Healthy Emotion
then align to have their say.
Arguments with fair Solutions
can vent and clear the air,
changing conditions and situations
among those who truly care
but often Hostility leads to Futility
creating Misery everywhere.
What we think and say and do
all depends on our World View
inherited through Generations,
Cultural and Religious Traditions,
Mass Entertainments and Educations,
all contributing to our World View.
January 15, 2022- Shelley Wilson
Beaver Tale
Beaver Tale
Mother Nature has gifted my family and I with many cherished memories through the years, often presented as pleasant surprises.
It was Canada Day, July 1st. My husband, Roger, and I decided to bring our two less-than-enthusiastic, pre-teen children, Alissa and Aaron, on a day trip of boating and fishing with our aluminum boat and outboard motor. We drove to an access point near Matachewan on the Montreal River. It’s a 220 km (137 mi) long tributary, with its own tributaries, of the Ottawa River stretching another 1,271 km (790 mi).
There, we loaded the boat with all the essentials , including the children.
It was a long ride to our destination during which Roger manned the outboard motor, I watched for the thrills of seeing wildlife and potential hazards, while the children watched the water- the waves, the ripples, the sprays- and the sky- the passing clouds in the bright sunlight, the birds flying by- and the shoreline of rugged Northeastern Ontario trees, shrubs, rocks and driftwood, all of which lulled them to sleep. While Roger and I were mapping, they were napping.
Part of our journey included a challenging portage. We all had to get out of the boat and slowly winch it up, with our gear and heavy motor, using a vintage winch pulley kept there to aid travel up the overland incline. It was a strenuous, exhausting task made more uncomfortable with the hot temperature, mosquitoes and blackflies. Like explorers and pioneers, we were on our determined way again.
Finally, we reached our chosen spot for fishing. Baited lines were all thrown in the water, not caring whether we actually caught any fish. The time of day, hot temperature and cooked bait were ignored as minor details. I recall that we were all focused on the contents of our cooler more than anything else.
Once satiated, we all drifted into silent reflection on our surroundings. That’s when Canada’s Totem Animal, a Beaver, swam up close to our boat, then loudly slapped its tail on the water. Some folks would say it was the Beaver’s territorial warning but we called it “The Canada Day Salute”.
( A true story retold November 1, 2021)
Thank you Mother Nature!
Shelley Wilson
Partridge Tale
This and Other Realities:
Partridge Tale
It was Christmas. Our little town in Northeastern Ontario had been gifted with another heavy snowfall. Fresh snow sparkled through the windows of our ‘doll house’ home. The beautiful white pine and shrubs of our garden all glittered like a Christmas card sent from the Heavens.
Inside, we enjoyed the colourful sight of hand-crafted ornaments on the Christmas tree and a bounty of holiday gifts beneath it. Our young children, Alissa and Aaron, played carefree games in the living-room as my husband, Roger, and I prepared dinner in the kitchen. Music drifted through the rooms in wave after wave of carols: ‘Silent Night’, ‘The Holly and The Ivy’, ‘Deck The Halls’ and another favourite- the countdown carol ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ our children loved to sing along with…”and a Partridge in a pear tree”…
The children’s excitement intensified that memorable day with the priceless gift of a very special visit. A glance outside had revealed the presence of a Partridge perched on our cherished crab-apple tree beside the dining-room window. Roger and I rushed into the room to watch this unusual sight. There was our own version of a Christmas carol come to life!
The plump bird didn’t seem to mind us watching it dine on the tiny crab-apples still clinging to the dormant tree. We were all so amused to see how much its heavy weight bent the branch it sat upon.
I recall wondering how this solitary Partridge could be so stout given the frozen state of the wilderness near our home. I also remember wondering how this naturally ‘shy’ bird found its way to our street and our house and tree with such perfect timing. How we loved Nature’s wondrous presence and presents!
I am still filled with thoughts and feelings of gratitude and wonder to this very day.
(A true story retold October 29, 2021)
Thank you Mother Nature!
Shelley Wilson
Time For Old Photos
Taking a slow look at old family photos can help us remember cherished relationships and experiences. This was my Dad back in the day. Note the missing modern protective gear.
Time For Reminiscing
Old family photos can be fun to share and reconnect to cherished relationships. This was my Mom at the town’s post office long before emails and web sites.
THE WHOLE FAMILY DAY
(The background of this poem is symbolic and intentional.)
Beautiful Angel
My Mother, Dixie Wilson, vacated her physical body in the early morning today. September 25, 2015. Life never dies, only transforms. She was a Space Trekkie and loved the Star Trek series for all the possibilities it opened up to consider. Now she is on a journey to the Singularity of Oneness in the Spacetime Continuum. Godspeed Mom. Love always.
A Hawk Watching Lions
A Hawk Watching Lions
They were a pride of lions, the family down the street,
I watched them from my tree-top perch.
Proud and regal in their ways, they held court daily
with the creatures all about them.
Those who gained their friendship felt the favour
of family loyalties and combined strengths
few could match.
Others felt their fearsome claws
and sharp, carnivore teeth.
I observed them with curious interest
as they lounged and played and hunted their prey.
Then I took to the air and quietly flew away.
November, 1996
Gardening With Mom
Gardening With Mom
Mom’s working in the garden
and it’s really quite a sight!
She owns some pretty dentures
but they never feel quite right
so they sit out on the counter
morning, noon, and night.
(I’ve seen her wear them once or twice.)
No teeth, no makeup, no bra—too tight.
She’s wrestling with lupins
and it’s a dirty, sweaty fight!
Even blackflies keep their distance
as they watch in awe and fright.
Guess I’d better grab a shovel
and work with all my might
to help her dig a little deeper
while there’s still a hint of light!
April, 2003
Mother
Mother
The splendour of precious gems
and crystals sparkling bright
cannot match the beauty
of her heart’s great inner light.
Compassion crowns her hours
with love’s empowering might,
as her mind bestows its bounty
filled with wonders and delight.
December, 2002
Flowerpoet 
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