World Poetry is pleased to present a new member to our group!
Wilma Seville writes poetry, short stories, magazine and newspaper articles. She originally is from Lachine, Quebec and now resides in Hamilton, Ontario. She sits on the Literary Arts Committee of the Hamilton Arts Council and has done so for more than six years. She is a member of Tower Poetry Society, Poetry Center and World Poetry.
In her work, particularly in poetry, she writes about nature, human behaviour, people with special needs, and on the lighter side, she writes about her beloved cats, Boots and Tiger.
Her interests include music – classical and semi-classical, operetta, reading,
walking at the waterfront and attending literary functions.
She is the proud mother of two grown up children and a wonderful son-in-law.
Excuse me please, won’t some body help?
Outside the plaza, where he stands most days,
he bends to feel the shape of coins,
which strangers, as they pause to listen,
toss into his case.
Arms and legs ache from a long day.
smile fades from his face, he closes his accordion
tucking it neatly into its case.
he’s ready to call it a day.
He walks to his familiar bus stop and waits.
buses pass him, but they do not stop.
one woman driver pulls over, speaks and points
to the moved bus stop across the busy street.
My eyes notice his predicament
although I cannot hear what is said.
I see her point and him start off
in the direction where the new stop is.
I can see construction in his path.
my heart is in my throat, sheer will power
propels me ahead with my walker.
I try to catch up, to help if I can.
White cane wildly waving.
expressive face etched with distress
rushing feet going too fast for me.
he charges towards the danger zone.
Excuse me please, won’t somebody help?
tears in his voice and eyes
people ignore him as they rush by
wrapped up in their own affairs.
Unseeing, city workers, backs turned
gather around the yawning pit
as an office worker, in dark suit and tie
sprints forward, takes charge in a gentle way*
“I’ll help, may I take your arm?
we’ll walk across together
I know where the new stop is.”
I breathe a sign of relief
as I see the danger passing.
happy to know that he is safe
at least for this one time.
Wilma Seville ©
Wilma writes:”Yes, of course you may read my poem on the radio show. I hope that it will help people to understand the plight of blind people and the dangers they face in everyday life.Bye the way, I cannot remember if I mentioned this, but I got some action from the local transportation system here (HSR) as well as from City Councillors, Jason Farr and Brian MaHattie.The HSR drivers were given sensitivity training so hopefully this may never happen again.I was very pleased that something was done! Wilma.
Sixteen years old
That’s all she was
When pain and sorrow
Came to call
No more than a child herself
Caught up in uncertain times
Nazi Germany gobbling Europe
England threatened, our boys gone.
Moments of passion
Tingled with anxiety, grief
Fear of separation, death
Life changed, a seed was sown.
Long months without a word
Slender body changed
Shock, anger amongst family.
In shame, she was sent away
To hide from folks around
Until her time would come
She would be with Aunt Jayne.
The day of reckoning came
When the child was born
No friends, relatives gathering
To welcome the little one
Instead, the new Mom left
Bereft of newborn child
Sorrowing heart, aching void
Scarred for life- always wondering
©2010 Wilma Seville