Margaret Brennan

Joined October 2021

598 stories

Bio

I am a 78-year old grandmother who loves to write, fish, and grab my camera to capture the beautiful scenery I see around me.

My husband and I found our paradise in Punta Gorda Florida where the weather always keeps us guessing.

Stories (598)

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In A Corner of the Attic
In A Corner of the Attic With Mom’s health becoming more fragile by the day, I knew it was time to begin the trugedy to cleaning our her attic.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
Empathy - Not on Her Watch
Empathy – Not on Her Watch She started losing friends, one by one. She’d call and, all too often, no one would answer. Sometimes she’d call and the woman on the other end, always said she was busy and would get back to her. She never did.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Fiction
Morning Jolt
Morning Jolt Just put an IV in my arm, And fill it with caffeine. My eyes will be the widest That you have ever seen.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
Grandma's Shoes
Grandma’s Shoes I used to walk in Grandma’s shoes; My curls beneath her hat. I listened to her many poems. Wished I could rhyme like that.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
The Viet Nam Veteran
The Viet Nam Veteran I watched him limp as he walked my way. There was sadness in his eyes. His clothes were ragged and wrinkled.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
With Nothing More Than Sand
I watched him work so feverishly, Digging up the sand. Imagination was his ruler. It had only to command. The hole he dug was three feet deep,
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
The Last Song
We played in the park as children, With nowhere special to go. Our belly-laughs rang, As we danced as we sang – And oh! How I loved you so.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
A New Day
Dawn The sun yawns as it stretches across the horizon and rises from its peaceful slumber. Midday The sun laughs as its brightness dissipates the feathery clouds and casts playful shadows on the ground beneath the swaying palms.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
The Vase
“Wait, what? You bought what?” she asked, not sure she heard him correctly. Jake repeated, “I bought modeling clay.”
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Families
It's Time
It’s Time I can feel the cold – The cold, sweet sensation Slipping down Down from my tongue, Down passed my palate,
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
Am I But a Dream?
Am I But a Dream? What is it you see when you look at me? Do you think that I’m all that I seem? Am I real or imagined – or a little of both?
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
Pictures
She looked at the faded pictures In the album on her knee. A silent tear fell from her eye, And blurred all that she could see.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets

Margaret Brennan

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(598)

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In A Corner of the Attic

Empathy - Not on Her Watch

Morning Jolt

Grandma's Shoes

The Viet Nam Veteran

With Nothing More Than Sand

The Last Song

A New Day

The Vase

It's Time

Am I But a Dream?

Pictures

Stories (598)