Not sure if this is already posted, but I thought I'd let everyone know that mammamaia, once a prominent member here, has passed away. this is a dedication thread for her. I didn't interact much with her on these forums but i was in contact with her via e-mail a while back. I found her to be a very nice, hearty woman who was more than willing to lend a hand to those learning the craft of writing. moreover, she was intellectually sharper than the edge of a guillotine - a true master when it came to the written word. I've heard that maia left these forums at some point - some people thought she was arrogant. personally, i found her good-humored bluntness refreshing, but to each their own. she did have a high opinion of her abilities, but unlike many people, her high-opinion was warranted. at any rate, she's left a sizable legacy here, and on other writing forums. i can't even begin to think of how many people she helped for FREE via e-mail. patience of a saint, if you ask me, considering a lot of the work she helped fine-tune was of a very low level. that eagerness to help people is a rare quality. it's certainly one i don't have. her website containing her body of work seems to be down. this is a shame, as mammamaia was an accomplished poet and writer. However, she DID send me some (not all) of her poetry collections in an e-mail attachment a long time ago, which i luckily still have. If anyone wants to have a gander at these gorgeous poems, send me a PM with your e-mail address, and i'll forward them on to you. anyway, here's one of my favorite maia poems. perhaps not appropriate for a dedication thread, but i'm fond of the disillusioned tone. Ingrates we were healthy once... we lived in the sun and drank the rain, earth fed us sweet corn and golden grain, fruit from her vines and each burgeoning tree... but never can we go back again to when we and our home were well... we’ve turned Paradise into Hell. we were wealthy once... we possessed pure souls and loving hearts, life led us to fair, far distant parts, rich, fertile fields and the primeval sea... but poor now are we who’ve sullied this and miss what was ours before... we’ve turned nurturer into whore. she is stealthy now... she hides what is left and gives us none for she is bereft of all we “won,” found, stole, destroyed on her maternal breast... so, to save the rest, she’ll be discreet, secrete what’s left, a grim war wage... we’ve turned earth’s mother love into rage.