Saturday, December 20, 2014

The Moldy Closet--By Sara Kendrick--United States

The Moldy Closet

The cloak closet was fairly clean
A brief dust would do it
Then pouring rain set in two days
Wet traced a fish gill's slit

Now the closet isn't sparkling clean
From those down stream's dribbles
On the clean outside all looks well
Inside black ink scribbles

A hard untidy job ahead
Removing the contents
A stinky, stressful employment
Arduousness presents

All purpose cleaner in strong hands
Spray, scrub to beat the band
Unsuccessful accomplishment
Step back, look, the job scanned

Momma said soap and water cleaned
Anything but the soul
Just say a prayer for cleansing
And He will make one whole

Sara Kendrick married young and had a family soon after. After her last child went to school, she decided to pursue her GED. A gentlemen who worked with the GED program encouraged her to enroll in college.  She worked part time and cared for her family in addition to her studies. She graduated from Mercer University. Several years ago, after a health crisis, she started writing poetry. 

Star Gazer--By Keith O. J. Hunt--Canada

Star Gazer

When she smiled at him ----
   the world could wait,
   with its myriad of contradictions
   and infinite postures to feigned joy;
   there could be no deceit in her light....
That gorgeous assurance that he was as alive
   as the vast heartbeat of the cosmos;
   what a whetted pulse to quicken and burst
   upon the shoulders of stars,
   and saddle comets to flame....
   ride the rays of the sun....
As a child again under the spell of ice cream,
   shiny-toy and heroic dream;
   the world could wait,
   (when she smiled at him)

Keith O. J. Hunt is a Classic-Romantic poet who generally prefers the older styles which he finds the greatest way to express his thoughts. He loves people, nature, spirituality and all things beautiful. Keith lives in Ottawa, Canada and has been writing poetry for 15 yrs.

Friday, December 19, 2014

God’s Magic--By John W. (Bill) Williams--United States

God’s Magic

On a snowy morning,
I watched snowflakes
drift in a soft quietness,
and marveled at its blanket
of whiteness, which covered me
with a warmth of peacefulness.
I absorbed its serenity
and whispered silent praise
for the pure joy of being touched
by the simple pleasure
of God’s magic.

John W. (Bill) Williams is a retired language arts and children’s literature educator.  He lives in Martin, GA, where he stays busy with his art and poetry.  He has been published in a variety of venues.

Whispered Shadows--By David Coon--United States

Whispered Shadows

Whispered shadows speak in the dark of night
They whisper words long held close to the heart
Forgotten dreams of hope and love filled light
Lost in time that has kept lovers apart

As tears slowly roll down from red rimmed eyes
Your face appears then fades into the dark
Memories fog and then escape from sight
Trailing the songs of wolves and meadowlarks

On a cold awakening moon stands high
The world is a dark, emotional void.
Stars wink out, disappearing in the blight
Dark thoughts of abandonment are deployed

A voice of joy and hope rises in song
Whispered shadows that flee in fright are gone

David (Dave) Coon has been sharing has poems on various social sites since 1997 and has always gone by the name of Nissmech. 

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Rain over Vietnam--By Paul Callus--Malta

Rain over Vietnam 

There is the calm before the rain
It’s almost silent all around
The clouds expectant in the sky
Foreboding birds are homeward bound.

The soldiers stare at looming clouds
There is the calm before the rain
And yet there’s tension in the air
Will all this waiting be in vain?

They know the feeling well enough
The sun gets left out in the cold
There is the calm before the rain
They have to be prepared and bold.

The sound of planes will soon be heard
Torrential bombs will fall again
But ‘til the heavens burst in floods
There is the calm before the rain.

Inspired by the song “Have you ever seen the rain?”
Sung by Credence Clearwater Revival.
With underlying reference to the Vietnam War.

Paul Callus is a Maltese author who writes both in Maltese and English. He has contributed to several anthologies. Apart from poetry he writes lyrics for songs and has published two books, one a story book aimed at children (related to his experience as a teacher) and a historical book based on research.

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Sara Kendrick and Doris Culverhouse--United States

Wrapped in Love

By Sara Kendrick and Doris Culverhouse

You came into the world in the  afternoon
A tiny bundle with red tuff of fine hair
Ready to leave your safe and warm cocoon
Not fussy, life entered with little flare

We prayed for you and God provided great Joy
A slim long bundle of happiness, God's blessing
We were full of love and gratefulness, my boy
Wonderful companion so much love overflowing

From you came this little boy who added much
Adorned  with such wonderful physical traits
Downy skin, strong finger grips, powerful touch
Born with minutes to spare ALMOST late for the date.

Two generations remembered by the third
Clear as a crystal nothing at all blurred

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Haiku/Senryu--By Ronald Grognet--United States

visiting mom
at the home--
who will I be

late night screams
at my first asylum stay--
a cat in heat

dogs romp in my yard--
    spontaneous flea market

my three grandsons
teach me what I didn't know--
    only child

squirrels twitching tails--
    text messages

Ronald Grognet is a retired Clinical Psychologist who practiced private individual and family therapy for thirty-five years. He lived and worked in Washington D.C., and Sarasota, FL before retiring in New Orleans to be close to his grandsons. Besides his volunteer time spent on disaster assignments for the Red Cross, he fills his time devoted to haiku poetry. His interest in poetry came as a gift in retirement. Reading an article about haiku filled with many examples, he recognized its similarity to the reflective stance of the meditation he practiced for many years. He has vigorously pursued its study for the last two years, personally experiencing its healing and enlightening qualities.

When She Sleeps--By Marlene Million--United States

When She Sleeps

Angels dance in sugarplum
dreams, circling her crib
amid colorful rainbows of
heavenly promise.

Noah's Ark nightlight is
aglow from atop the dresser.
Pink, light-weight coverlet
is pushed aside.

A curled cherub in white
cotton pajamas, all is calm,
and she sighs softly.

Angel wings hover. . .
safely guarding
her breath of life.

Marlene Million is a retired insurance secretary from her husband's business and grandmother of four. She has published two chapbooks and belongs to several writers’ groups. She had a poem on display at Indianapolis Arts Garden the month of February, 2013 and has been published in a variety of venues.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Winter--By Yvonne Sparkes--England


It’s Winter and the earth is bare,
Gone are the sounds of summer fairs,
Only chilly winds, and frosty panes,
Large icicles, and frozen drains
But, compensation is a-planned,
A Winter season wonderland.
When warm white blanket covers earth,
All furry creatures in their berth,
The child takes on his snowball pleasure,
To any child it’s natures treasure.
The old will think of bygone day,
when horse had drawn a handsome sleigh
The tinkling of it’s pretty bells,
Only Christmas cards now tell.
Still there lays a pretty scene,
The land is beautiful and clean,
Each plant and tree a white cap wears,
Who needs the sun and summer fairs?

Born on Feb. 27, 1940 in Barkingside, Essex, England, Yvonne Sparkes,  immigrated to New York in April, 1948 with her parents.  She now resides in Chelmsford, Essex and has two sons.  She has a book published by Cyberwit called Captured Images.  A writer for many years, Yvonne has been published in Israel, Germany, France, Australia, America, and Britain.  She has read her poetry in public at Church and Knockout Competitions. Her hobbies are travel, the arts, reading, hiking, taking her Scottish Terrier for walks, and spending time with family and friends.

The Perfect Christmas Tree--By Robert Hewett Sr.--United States

The Perfect Christmas Tree

The truck was unloaded and all the trees were standing tall.
One Blue Spruce, taller than all the rest, was a know it all.
“I’m the most handsome tree; I will be the first tree to go.”
The Spruce noticed a twisted scraggly small Cedar lying near.
“How in the world did you get here, you ugly little freak,
“No one will buy a runty twisted deformed tree like you,”
Frankie, deformed since birth, bent, he could barely walk alone.
Frankie’s mom had died that year, they were very sad and broke.
Frankie hoped to decorate a tree like he and his Mom.
With ribbons, pine cones, and things they made that were fun for all.
“Frankie, I don’t have money for any tree, live or dead”.
“I know dad, could we go see them before I go to bed.”
A light snow and brisk wind made it like a scene from a book.
The owner of the tree lot said “Welcome, my first buyers.”
“Your trees are beautiful, my son just wants to look at them.”
The owner saw Frankie’s wistful face, bent and twisted body.
He watched father and son walk slowly touching each live tree.
The owner smiled and said “I have a tree that fits you well”.
The Big Blue Spruce flexed its fine limbs, and let out a loud moan.
Frankie smiled, “it’s perfect I can trim it, it’s just like me”

Robert Hewett Sr. was born 1n 1933 on a Texas cotton farm. He moved to Oklahoma City at Age 14 and entered the U. S Army from there in 1953. Robert has been writing poetry and short stories for his family and himself since his teen years, but is just now publishing his collection of works. His hobbies include writing poetry and stories; clock and watch collections; gardening and growing flowers and shrubs from cuttings. Most of his poetry tells a story, a gift from his father who was a master story teller. He has received numerous awards for his work in his professional life and for his writing. You can find some of his writings at ""

Monday, December 15, 2014

Haiku--By Ron C. Moss--Australia

mountain lake
the inner circles
of a raindrop

cherry blossoms
on the family picnic . . .
the colour of joy

cosmic dust
the feel of another’s pulse
on mine

breathless . . .
my fingers ripple
a star cluster

snowflakes settle
on scallop shells
lit by the moon

Ron C. Moss is a Tasmania visual artist, poet and lover of haiku. His poetry has won international awards and been translated into several languages. Ron's art is sold as limited edition-prints and originals. He has been featured in poetry journals and has designed several award winning poetry books.  Ron is a two time winner of the Haiku Society of America International renku competition, and he is a current member on the Haiku Society of America. Please check out Ron’s

Poet of the Month--Pam Murray

October Is No Lady

By Pam Murray

Come softly to my window.
Dawn rises and you’ll see
October’s inspiration
In the changing tapestry.

I envy her the weaving
Of such vibrant red and gold.
I’ve tried to emulate her
But I’m never quite so bold.

I’ve heard she is a mistress
Of old man winter who will be
Along to do her bidding,
Which he’ll do most willingly.

Some think it is the summer
Who would hold her in his bed.
Perhaps it’s just the sun who tries
To keep her close instead.

I know she’s not a lady.
Just look at what she flaunts.
It really is quite scandalous
How she teases and she taunts.

But we’ve learned to love her.
We await her eagerly
As soon as summer passes.
What fools we mortals be.

From the editor--It is a privilege to announce that Pam Murray is December’s Poet of the Month.  She is an accomplished writer who has been published in a variety of venues.  Readers at Whispers enjoy her wonderful poetry.  Pam has been an encouraging voice at our online journal since 2013.  She regularly leaves thoughtful comments which others appreciate.  Pam has collaborated with another writer on several poems that have been featured at Whispers.  It is a pleasure to present Pam with this honor!

Thoughts on “October is No Lady”--I felt the gentle invitation in the opening line and was drawn to find out what was out there to see.  Pam’s skilled use of personification evokes an artistic experience.  The rhyme flows effortlessly which is a hallmark of much of Pam’s writing.  The imagery breathes life into this remarkable poem.  This is a wonderful, timeless piece.

Congratulations and thank you Pam!  I appreciate all you do and have done for Whispers.


Karen O’Leary, Editor

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Autumn Turning--By Linda Hurdwell--England

Autumn Turning

In the sky a tangerine.
Grinning down upon the grey
A bleak and desolate scene
While nature’s hands push life away

Green turned brown shapes float down
Beneath the hazy tangerine
Nature wears her orange gown
And bare tall trees stand serene.

Birds migrate with windswept plume
Squirrels scamper to and fro
Soon nature is an empty room
As fertile land begins to go

In the sky a luminous moon
Seeks the chance to lean and glow
Gently lighting up the gloom
Then, silently it starts to snow

Now a white and barren land
Ethereal world lets out a sigh
Nature shakes a chilly hand
Beneath the ever changing sky.

Linda Hurdwell has been a widow for 5 years.  She has two adult sons. Living in the English countryside, she takes her dog, Bessie, for a daily walks and that's where many of her poems and stories are born.  She has always loved writing and has a few short stories published.  Although now a pensioner,  she enjoys working with adults with learning disabilities and running a mencap social club once a week.  Her hobbies are writing, tap dancing, and going to the theatre or cinema with my friends.

Blizzard--By Joan McNerney--United States


O wonderful emergency!

Silver needles spin for hours
weaving tapestries to drape
rooftops, sidewalks, streets.
Millions of icicles delicately
arranged on lamp posts, along
metal railings, around cornices.

White magic prayed for by children.
A spell shutting down school
making way for snow fights.
Perfect opportunity to burrow
longer in bed. Be late for work.
Appearing unbusinesslike
in rough clothes.

Snow crystals cover all
stains and blemishes.
Each windowpane
becomes a miniature
museum of fine line etchings.

We are snapped awake by frost.
Our woolen gloves full of lace.

Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Camel Saloon, Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Blueline, Spectrum, and included in Bright Hills Press, Kind of A Hurricane and Poppy Road Anthologies.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Special Feature Collaborative Poem---By Angelee Deodhar, Arvinder Kaur and Paresh Tiwari--India

White Horizon

By Angelee Deodhar, Arvinder Kaur and Paresh Tiwari

'Tis time to leave
the cold within and venture out
to search for a tree
to deck in warmth

of the cables on a sweater -
forgetting the dark alleys
of the years gone by

I swig another
charcoal filtered verse.
with coarse fingers
these memories unwrap me
under the watchful eyes of
the bedside lamp

other voices follow
whispering of loves lost
unsaid goodbyes
till axe in hand
I stomp into the snowy
Christmas tree farm

tiny rivulets
string together unsaid words
into a song of silence
as we walk together

leaving nothing
on the ends of a sky that
stretches the horizons.

Ekphrasis is based on  Andrew Wyeth's painting House

Haiku--By Archana Kapoor Nagpal--India

Easter dinner
staring at my plate of meat
my neighbour's cat

dawn breaks
once again he makes
his last peg

his last hair strand
on my comb

Archana Kapoor Nagpal is an internationally published author of 6 books so far, and her winning stories are now part of international anthologies. She writes inspirational content for corporate newsletters, websites, blogs and print publications. Her inspirational poems touch every area of a person's life. She enjoys writing Haiku and Tanka as well. Visit her Amazon Author Profile to know more about her.

Winter Divinity--By Connie Marcum Wong--United States

Winter Divinity

First snow on tree tops,
Canadian pristine . . .
Nature's own beauty
Of spirit supreme.

Cascading waters
Of crystal clear birth
Instill serene pleasure
From heaven to earth.

As the lake mirrors mountains
And deep azure sky,
We commune together,
My God and I.

Connie Marcum Wong has been the Web Mistress of a private poetry forum Poetry for Thought since October 1999. Her poetry has been in many publications, anthologies, magazines, and e-zines over the years. She published her first poetry chapbook, Island Creations in 2005. In 2007, Heart Blossoms was published. In January 2010, an anthology, A Poetry Bridge to All Nations, was published by Lulu Enterprises, Inc.  Connie created the 'Constanza' poetry form in 2007 and Con-Verse form in 2010. She has resided with her husband in Hawaii since 1980.

Friday, December 12, 2014

Musings--By Brian Strand--England


We forget so easily life’s reality,
vulnerable, alone we stay transfixed
by memory, frayed. Musings of the mind,
experience, past & present
lingers long. A reality that ebbs
and flows as morning mist.
Just out of reach shadows persist,
circumstance moves on, twenty-four
hours remain a day. Our times change,
inside we stay the same, as players
not spectators in the game.

Brian Strand has created short poetic forms including 'broken monoku' (a haiku variation) and 'footle' (a trochaic monometer with witty, topical, etc themes) and Captioned Cartoon, an Ekphrasis combining his art and poetic interests. He has published a seven kindle ebook series Poetic forms; A Strand of Verse; My Choice Strand Verse; A Strand Guide; Christianity Explained; A Strand critique; and Captioned Cartoon Ekphrasis. Brian has written nearly 200 Amazon reviews and is a Wiki poetry and art editor.

A Walk In Winter--By Kelly Deschler--United States

A Walk In Winter

Twin, silver cathedral bells, sway and chime.
As every note peals out, clear and sublime.

No winds blow through the sky, this silent night.
The peaceful heavens, filled with a celestial light.

Arm and arm, down the icy lane we do walk.
Heart to heart, our souls they seem to talk.

A pair of happy cardinals, one red, one gold.
Go bobbing through the snow, so white, so cold.

Along the hillside, stands rows of frosted pine.
The fields, blanketed in diamonds, a vision divine.

Couples, young and old, seated in horse-drawn sleighs.
Making new memories, and reminiscing their by-gone days.

Nestled so close together, like two turtledoves.
All bundled up, with warm scarves and gloves.

Amongst white winter lands, we two do wander.
While our light hearts, are growing ever fonder.

Kelly Deschler lives in Big Falls, Wisconsin, United States. Her poem, "A Walk In Winter" was inspired by the painting, "Christmas Day" by John Ritchie.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Thank You Lord--By Phyllis Babcock--Canada

Thank You Lord

Thank you Lord for the blessings we receive
For your guidance and ever watchful eye
Guiding us into each new day
For leading us in our lost moments
Allowing us to grow and find the right pathway


Giving us courage to face each new challenge
Guiding us in the proper manner
Picking us up when we stumble
Teaching us how to become whole
Making us acceptable in the way of the Lord


Phyllis Babcock was born in Saskatchewan, Canada in 1951 and currently resides in Regina with her husband. She has been blessed with two wonderful sons and daughter-in-laws. She has two grandsons and two granddaughters. She started writing poetry in 2004 and joined Poetry Soup site in 2006. She has been published in two anthologies, On Butterfly Wings and Snippets. Her work has also appeared on and in a local seniors’ newspaper. She feels writing has been a wonderful journey, meeting many new poets and writers along the way.

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Paul Callus--Malta and Olive E. Guillermo--Philippines

Chariot of  Fire

By Paul Callus and Olive E. Guillermo

I stand in silence and behold the sight,
staring in wonder, waiting for thunder.
A chariot of fire travels through the night.

The white-winged horses gallop in full flight
pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes
I stand in silence and behold the sight.

Where are they going? There’s a shining light
leading all the way, so they will not stray.
A chariot of fire travels through the night

amidst the heaven where in pure delight
resides the Master, the sweetest lover,
I stand in silence and behold the sight;

Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight;
heartbeats race to sway, courage on display.
A chariot of fire travels through the night

armoured by God’s spirit. They ride like knights
fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain.
I stand in silence and behold the sight;
a chariot of fire travels through the night.

Sleigh Ride--By Mary A. Couch--United States

Sleigh Ride

Sleigh bells
jingle in night
as black horse trots through snow.
Leaves tracks along woodlands white road,
stops for a moment. I breathe in pine scent,
feel chilled wind wrap me in its arms,
know warm fire awaits me,
woods echo with
sleigh bells.

Mary A. Couch resides in Noblesville, Indiana, and works as an Admin Assistant for Taylored Systems, Inc. a local telecommunication company. She is the Premier Poet for the Indiana State Federation of Poetry Clubs, and she learned poetry from her mother and two grandmothers who were writers, artists and storytellers. She has been published in a variety of venues.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Haiku--By Ali Znaidi--Tunisia

Another night,
and still no tweet.
The moon wanes.

Three flowers
at the edge of a lake.
—A party.

Yellow dust.
Waves of pollen
in the air.

A nightingale
on a tree’s bough.
I deleted all my mobile ring tones.

Glittering dates.
No mosquitoes
on my skin.

Ali Znaidi (b. 1977) lives in Redeyef, Tunisia, where he teaches English. His work has appeared in various magazines and journals worldwide. He authored four poetry chapbooks including Experimental Ruminations (Fowlpox Press, 2012), Moon’s Cloth Embroidered with Poems (Origami Poems Project, 2012), Bye, Donna Summer! (Fowlpox Press, 2014), and Taste of the Edge (Kind of A Hurricane Press, 2014). Links to his published and forthcoming works can be found at 

flashback--By Peggy Dugan French--United States


dairy cows sauntering through fields
grain-filled silos shooting skyward
fields of corn rolling in the breeze
cats sipping milk in the weathered barn . . .


standing on the gravel road
breathing in this unspoiled life
bundling it up for later
past and present colliding

Previously published in Shemom

Peggy Dugan French is a California girl with Minnesota roots. She has enjoyed being the editor of Shemom since 1997. She has worn many hats over the years, but being a Mom has been one of her greatest adventures; she’s had the pleasure of sharing that journey with her best friend.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Racialized Chinese Canadians--By Chen-ou Liu--Canada

Racialized Chinese Canadians

(a haiku sequence written in response to The Accidental Asian by Eric Liu, Bill Clinton's deputy domestic policy adviser and speech writer)

chinks go home!
all she sees in the mirror
are slanted eyes

chinks go home!
the spit on my face
cold as snow

chinks go home!
again and again
he scrubs his hand

Chen-ou Liu is the author of four books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize Winner of the 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest). His tanka and haiku have been honored with many awards. To read more of his poems, please go to Poetry in the Moment,

In the Bottomlands--By John Swain--United States

In the Bottomlands

Sandhill cranes arise from the cornfield
in the whipping dawn,
grey against grey as the sky becomes their wings.
Recent floods have drowned the forests
of peeling river birch.
I entered in my tall green wading boots.
Water traveling through wind in holiness
with the safety of no people like this ancient day
brightens into eternity.
In the air like dog teeth, I am devoured,
torn to eat at my own limbs
for your communion in this wilderness.
I took the moon to soothe the briars
on the mule of my speaking tongue
in exhaustion and drift continuing a red prayer.

John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky, USA. Red Paint Hill published his first collection, Ring the Sycamore Sky.

Christmas Eve--By Eleanor Michael--United States

Christmas Eve

Ready for the party,
Daddy in a Santa suit,
Momma in a fur-trimmed Mini.
They know the kids
are listening to every word.
“Have been good?” he asks.
He names them one by one,
“Holly, Angel, Carol, Noel.”
Although it’s not always true,
she says, “Yes, yes, yes, and yes.”
“Then there is something
in my backpack for every one.”
He leans toward Mrs. Santa,
“What should I bring
their mother for Christmas?”
“Sorry, Santa,” she says,
“four small socks hanging
on the mantel is enough.”

Eleanor Michael has published poetry and short stories in a variety of venues.

Monday, December 8, 2014

November Dreams--By Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo--Philippines

November Dreams

Acrobatic leaves
fatigued, drop to earth below.
Calmly, they rest jam-pack-like.

Trees beheaded bold
while meteor-like streaks fall.
They hug the trunks with cold-fire.

Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo, 28 year-old from The Philippines, is a nurse by profession. Poetry writing is her new found hobby, since 2012. She is a member of Poetry Soup where she submits most of her poems. Her writing inspiration is driven by God, experiences and nature. She dreams of publishing a book someday.

When the Muse Dictates--By Gerald Heyder--United States

When the Muse Dictates

Stop the presses and hold the phones,
inspiration is thrilling my bones!
Am I facetious or just vain,
sometimes authors go insane.
Are you laughing or raising your brow?
It’s hard to know from here anyhow.
All you writers know what I mean
when ideas come like a steam rolling machine;
I simply say to all you mates,
“Raise the shades when the muse dictates!”

Gerald Heyder is a published poet from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Tanka--By Shivapriya Ganapathy--India

smudged in last night's rain...
of us together now
stamped on my heart

green tea
still tasting bitter
with two sugars...
his plans for our life ahead
fall on deaf ears

Shivapriya Ganapathy is from Kanchipuram, India. She graduated with a Masters degree in English Language and Literature from Madras Christian College, Chennai, and is now a research scholar at University of Madras. Apart from being a researcher, she is an aspiring poet, constantly learning and experimenting with new forms like micropoetry and erasure. Some of her poems have been published in Whispers, Verse Wrights, Word Couch, Wordweavers, Spilt Ink Poetry and Sonic Boom. She also maintains a personal poetry blog ( and finds writing therapeutic.