My Father, Stan

Dad in the Great Outdoors
Dad played on hockey teams in Kirkland Lake
Dad on the right and his older brother Alvin
Dad delivering milk by horse and cart.
Dad loved snowmobiling. This cloud formation appeared in the sky just after he passed.

Bright Yellow Chairs

moments caught by technology- my daughter and me

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

These photos were taken some years ago. I plan to post them on my new site of FlowerpoetShelley which is

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.

Some very vintage photos of my husband, Roger, my sweet children, Alissa and Aaron, and myself. The photos have some of my welding sculptures.


Poppies, my photograph


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.

Weeping Flowers, my photograph

(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

This and Other Realities:

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

Beautiful Angel

image image

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