Margaret Brennan

Joined October 2021

591 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 (591)

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... and the first shall be last
… and The Frist Shall Be Last Satan stood at the gates of hell And invited all who came; He accepted all the bodies – strong;
By Margaret Brennan2 years ago in Poets
Taking Pictures
Taking Pictures My latest passion I am certainly not the best. Maybe, I am mediocre, at best. However, I do try.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Photography
The Break
The Break I’d been at it for days, now. Between writing and editing my photos, there just weren’t enough hours in the day. Of course, there were other things that needed to be done. The clothes that sat in the hamper needed washing and drying. Naturally, the nest step would be to put away the clean clothes.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Journal
Love Isn't
LOVE ISN’T Love isn’t Just love. You want me to love you. How can I? I don’t know you. Not much.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
To Run With the Wind
To Run With the Wind I used to be able to run with the wind, My hair swirling up with the breeze. Sports were never a problem.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
What a mess!
What a mess! I can clearly remember uttering those very words many years ago. I’d look around the floor at the large mound of crumpled papers I would try to toss in the waste basket – but missed.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Proof
Pictures in My Mind
Pictures in my Mind It started with a blank page, like the feeling in my heart The day my father passed away; it ripped me all apart.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
The Wake-Up Call
Has this ever happened to you? THE WAKE-UP CALL As he kissed my lips, I trembled. His strong arms held me tight.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
Ode to Scotch Tape
When I was a sophomore in high school, one of our teachers was totally hooked on poetry. She’d often hand each one of us a piece of paper with one word written on it.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
Through the Window
My cousin sent me a picture and asked if I could draft a poem for it. Here it is. Through the Window The snow fell silently
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
The Garden of Stone
After paying a visit to the graves of my dad and brother, I witnessed several families visiting theirs. The emotions on their faces mirrored mine.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Poets
No Sweeter Love
NO SWEETER LOVE Looking back to the day I first met him, I can’t help but think, God, we were only kids! At least back then, we would have been considered kids. I was 16 and he 15.
By Margaret Brennan3 years ago in Fiction

Margaret Brennan

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(591)

Filter by community

... and the first shall be last

Taking Pictures

The Break

Love Isn't

To Run With the Wind

What a mess!

Pictures in My Mind

The Wake-Up Call

Ode to Scotch Tape

Through the Window

The Garden of Stone

No Sweeter Love

Stories (591)