Waiting Room Encounters

As my Dad aged I found myself spending a lot of time in waiting rooms, sitting engrossed with watching the comings and goings of others.  I wrote a series of pieces formed loosely around some of the wonderful people I met… Madge, Bob and Benita were but a few. 




Arms akimbo Madge waltzed in

Marched right up to the counter

She’d been there before


Mrs James she said

You’ve got me down for 10

Had such a busy morning myself

Madge announced

As she proceeded to squeeze into the dainty corner chair


Surveying the room she called out

What’s your name luv

To the little girl playing by her mum

What’s making you so sad today?

Reaching into her bag Madge pulled out

A snickers and cartoon book

Here we go

That might cheer you up


I saw Madge a number of times

Always the same, same dainty chair

Same bag, same supplies

Her eyes scanning for ‘just the one’

Somehow she knew


Turned out Madge knew more than just

Who to shower her kindness on

For she had been told her days

Were numbered


My Gran said

All our days are numbered

She just knew how to spend them wisely


Thank you Madge

Now when I sit with my Gran as we often find ourselves doing

Sitting and waiting

I reach into my bag, eyes scanning for ‘just the one’

So should you see me

Give me a wink and I’ll know you know what I’m up to





Everyone likes Bob

The salt of the earth

Retired farmer

Now as familiar with the couch

As the tractor seat


He only came in on a Friday

Insisted he was doing the doc

A favour

And that was that

No-nonsense type of chap


It’s amazing how for a

Man of few words

The sun shone

From his eyes

As blue as the Aussie skies

He’s long studied


Not one to read

He’d whistle

Quietly to himself

So as no-one could hear

But of course we all could


Without looking his way

I’d count how long


His catchy tune



Quietly of course

So as no-one can hear


One day

The whole waiting room


A whistle here

A whistle there

His catchy little tune


And of course

Always quietly

So as no-one could hear


Everyone loved Bob

The waiting rooms the place to be

They’d say





Always on time

Was Benita

Bringing the smell

Of freshly baked bread


Hidden in a wicker basket

That hinged open

Like wings



Tasty treats

Only 2 dollars a pop

She would walk through

The waiting rooms


Plying her wares

A bargain at hand

Over and over again

The sound of coins



Always beaming

The smiles for free

She would say


No matter how weary

She may have been


The smell of

Fresh bread


Brought life

To the rooms

And smiles

To faces


Not quite sure what it did

To waistlines

But really

Who cares?


I’ll take two

The smiles for free


People call me creative. Although I'm not always sure exactly what this is and how they know this with declarative confidence I've come to accept this as part of the unique expression of the Godhead through me. What this means is that I get to do lots of fun things, like facilitate creative writing groups, art exhibitions and teach a range of art mediums. The core theme of all is the Unleashing of Creativity. Over the years I've seen Holy Spirit take people to places in creativity that facilitated liberty, restored and awakened their spirits to Him. I've come to understand that creativity is about revealing truth and am constantly challenged to extend the dimensions and modalities of awe and wonder towards the One who is Truth.