Friday, August 30, 2013

Natural memories--By Anna-Marie Docherty--Wales

Natural memories

Count the days in the garden.
Let love bloom all around.
Recognize the peace,
there is harmony in the sky.
With each and every leaf or bud -
new breath, a miracle.
Make memories unforgettable,
garnish them with thoughtful floral fragrance.
Add that loving laughter, those smiles.
Create that sense of magic,
and cherish natures dance.

Anna-Marie Docherty lives in Pembrokeshire, Wales, UK and is often inspired by nature and the world around her. Having been writing poetry now for 4 - 5 years, her works have developed in structure and form as well as using free verse in her writing as she walks this endless art form and creativity in her thirst to further learn. Letting the pen and the muse dictate topic and form both humour, religion, nature or the serious subject might be touched upon therefore keeping the writing fresh and easy to read by those who follow. Writing both as given name above and pen name anaisnais through the net, examples of poems can be found both in Snippets, an anthology of short verse by various international poets, compiled by Karen O'Leary and Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson; also Pink Panther magazine, an anthology written by several poets and artists on feminist issues in our environment and various poems on the internet for taster.

Monday, August 26, 2013

My Tree--By A. Michele Leslie--United States

My Tree

I see myself in the window
reflected at the end
of a frozen tree branch . . .
nothing else on the tree
but some books
from my desk.

Once the tree was filled
with apple blossoms.
Now, I alone
am its fruit.

Everything is so cold—
the frosted branch,
the starless sky.
I am just barely connected,
I could fall any moment.

What a heavy fruit
for such a slight branch
and how alone the tree would be
without me.

A. Michele Leslie is a poet and playwright who lives in Minneapolis with her husband, David, and two cats.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Gratitude--By George L. Ellison--England


Gratitude is free for all
Please and thank you make you humble
To some it comes so natural
But others only mutter and mumble

It costs nothing to be polite
When good turns and presents come our way
So why not show another your delight
With your gratitude to them you pay

It really makes it so worthwhile
When gratitude they return
You say to yourself, “I’ll go the extra mile!”
As you feel pleasure and inside you’re so warm

So always say please and thank you
Whatever the time of year; in whatever mood
Then someone will give what you feel is due
They’ll show their humble gratitude

George L. Ellison is a writer of poetry and  short stories. He as published two books called Poetic Reminiscences and Weaving Words.  George lives with his wife and dogs in Chester-Le-Street, County Durham in England. He is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance. He is currently working on his new project as well as learning to play the saxophone at the Sage Gateshead!

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Night--By Elizabeth Wesley--Canada


I saw the sweeping skirts of night
Trail through star lit halls
I saw her garments rimmed with light
Where the night wind calls.

I felt the magic spell of light
Embrace me from above;
Pastoral presence holds the night
As I hold the one I love.

I heard sound of songs in flight
The clarion call of chimes
To rouse the resting place of night
Like some poet's pious rhymes.

On bended knee I breathed a prayer
To ascend in wondrous flight;
My plea now probes the midnight air
To fold the wings of night.

Elizabeth went through a period of darkness from memory loss after retiring. It finally ended and living was possible again. Finding poetry of the masters enticed her to write and she feels this was part of her healing process.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Sweet Poetry--By Andrew Ntchindi Jere--Malawi

Sweet Poetry

From the cotyledon of nature
Poetry blossoms into opaque shadows
And shoots out leaves of transparency

A haven of inborn creativity
A prey for the mushrooming web
Where innocent smiles are portrayed

Pressing on the peddles of poetry
Torching the glowing eyes
Shattering darkness from twilight to dawn

From the mantles of the head
Emanates a geyser of boiling inks
Meandering into an audible language

Andrew Ntchindi Jere is a published youthful poet from Mzimba District, Malawi. He believes God is his source of creativity.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

One Day--By Linda Hurdwell--England

One Day

One day when the lights went out
And I shivered exposed filled with fear.
One day when nobody seemed to listen
And rain fell from the sky. A giant tear.
One day when I touched his marble face
And I knew he was no longer here
I became alone, apart, a whisper of breath
Fluttering exhausted near the gates of death.
Until - Until
One day when the lights shone out
I smiled with eyes now bright and clear

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.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Shadows of Peace--By Michael J. Falotico--United States

Shadows of Peace

Inside a tear a whole world rains...
The view is blurry but the image stains...
The sunlight is faded and far from sight...
A star behind the moon that still shines bright...
Weathering days into the shadows of peace...
Passing over epiphany and confusion that sure does tease...
Outside a tear a world is hidden...
Where sadness disappears and hearts are forgiven...

Michael J. Falotico describes poetry as a way to express his feelings about life. He has been writing for the past 3 1/2 years and is currently working on his third book of poetry. He has published two books of poetry already called A Walk Though Time and A Road Still Driven. He resides in Westchester, NY. His poetry is an extension of his life and road to peace and tranquility.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Twilight Splendor--By Karen O'Leary--United States

Twilight Splendor

Autumn’s colorful hues
    have come and gone.

Silver strands replace
    youth’s golden tresses.
Gentle strength flows
    through her wrinkled hands.
Though bones ache,
    a smile lights her face.
Her fragile body encases
    a warm, generous heart.
When she eases into a room,
    others pause in awe.

In the middle of winter,
    her faith flows on.

Thank you everyone for your kind words and ongoing support of Whispers.  It is a gift to work with so many talented artists.  Best wishes to all of you in your writing journeys.  --Karen

Karen O'Leary is a freelance writer/editor from West Fargo, ND.  Her poetry, short stories, and articles have been published in a variety of venues.  She released her first book of poetry in 2011 called Whispers... published by A.P.F. Publisher.  Their second project, anthology of short verse, contains poetry from 73 talented writers from across the world and was released in 2012.  Karen is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance and the Haiku Society of America.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

A Tear--Kevin Bates--United States

A Tear

His heart is burning
like the evening sun.

Wipes a tear…
as he hears his mother’s
and her daughters’ voices

Kevin Bates is an avid reader. You will find him reading everyday books of non-fiction or poetry online. He loves family, sports, reading and writing poetry. He has one handsome son and grandson. He hopes to one day be published, bring a smile, and help many through his poetry. He lives outside Houston, Texas and can find him reading or writing right now.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Georgia Peach--By Sara Kendrick--United States

Georgia Peach

G raceful lady
E difier of mankind
O ptimist about life
R egard all people important
G ifted in many areas
I dealist in life's endeavors
A visionary of the future

P leasant smile
E ye catching demeanor
A dmirable in doing good
C aptivating spirit
H armonious outlook about life

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. 

Passing Trains in Winter Rains--By Terry O'Leary--France

Passing Trains in Winter Rains

"Adrift within a dismal night, while trudging down deserted track,
Beyond the bend, a peering light, illumed alone through vacant black.
Such are the tricks that fate will feign, with passing trains in winter rain.

The darkling sky, sighed, dripping dew, beguiling to the trek anew.
In diamond dusk the demons came, there was no dread, there was no claim,
But distant thoughts will entertain on passing trains in winter rain.

Through shadow’s fog a form appeared, which slowed its pace as morning neared,
A lonesome, meek and wistful thing, a fallen bird with broken wing.
Such are the shapes and weary strain of passing trains in winter rain.

We paused a moment, side by side confronting Fate in eventide.
But Passion’s Pains of yesteryear left youthful Ardor draped in fear -
We had our courses to maintain, like passing trains in winter rain.

I often harken, reaching back, to hear the formless twisted track
Muse “Few have loved though all have toyed inside this vast and vacant void -
The what and why ? At heart, mundane !” We’re passing trains in winter rain ... "

Terry O’Leary defines himself as "A physicist lacking gravity...".

Monday, August 12, 2013

Soldier Coming Home--By Robert Hewett Sr.--United States

Soldier Coming Home

I’m a soldier coming home
I fought the fight, I was strong.
I did my best to right some wrongs
Home is now where I belong.
I can smell my wife’s home cooking
I see her smile, she’s so good looking.
I see her there at the gate waiting for me
Open arms outstretched for me to see.
War is hard and I did my due
I’m glad to say that I am through.
Some friends died there, it hurt me
They are in my heart and forever will be.
I love my country, I truly do
I wish everyone could have freedom too.
This land of ours is worth more than gold
I fought for dreams that I do hold.
This uniform has made me proud
It shows the world we can’t be bowed.
I salute our capitol dome,
I’m a soldier coming home.

Robert Hewett Sr. was born in 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 ""

Garden Gazebo--By Christina R. Jussaume--United States

Garden Gazebo (Constanza)

Gazebo was in sunny place
Brick steps took you to each level
Peace was felt here never devil

Tall surrounding trees did embrace
On shrubs many flowers in bloom
Here hummers and butterflies zoom!

Sitting within gave breathing space
I could hear angel chorus sing
Distant church bell would often ring

Within garden felt the Lord’s grace
Problems and stress would diminish
Every day could have great finish

Viewing the scene brought smiling face
The presence of Lord I could feel
All would enjoy garden appeal!

Christina R. Jussaume is a Christian Author of 9 poetry books. She has had many poems published in anthologies and fundraisers. She has won many awards for her poetry including Best Spiritual Poetry award from Her first book, My Walk with Jesus, received this award and began her journey toward fulfillment as a Style Tutor now on the Alliance of Poets. All of her books except the first book were published by

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Probate Sale--By Jack Clubb--United States

Probate Sale

I walk through the house with sunglasses on,
Looking at all the things we used to love.
Through the window, I see the rolling lawn
And the two old chairs that have gone to rust.
The ornamental wall lamps with glass shades,
The mantel, the couch with its funny lumps,
The hassock you covered with dark green suede,
The kitchen table where we ate our lunch,
I am still haunted by this house we loved;
There are memories here I will never leave;
Even with dark glasses I see too much;
Perhaps part of me will always grieve.
And forever on those two rusty chairs
Two sad, ghostly figures will sit and stare.

Jack Clubb has had short stories published in publications such as Black Creek Review, Coffee-Ground Breakfast, The Magic of Words, Northern Stars, Opinion Magazine, Rockford Review, Sunrise, The Taylor Trust, and Voices From The Valley. He has also had several hundred poems published in the United States, the United Kingdom, and India. Jack is grateful every time an editor gives one of his poems an opportunity to sing or gives him the opportunity to tell a story as he writes feverishly from his century-old house at the foot of the Silver Lake Hills in Los Angeles.

Over Cataplana--By Ralph Stott--England

Over Cataplana

With carpenter’s eyes I’d follow,
To the sea and it’s waves below.

And imagine these waves as words,
Glistening amongst the sea birds.

Soon they’d move, as lines to the shore
As written crests above the raw!

A passage from a deep lament?
From distant oceans surely sent.

All written in a foreign tongue;
A poem spoken, now is sung:

“Oh vingress - jah-lub-a-blew-wee!”*
(The waves too, sound phonetically).
                *   *   *
We sit and talk of the future;
Bared with scars and tiny sutures!

A pale past rising through our tans
(Your tiny boatman, oars outspanned).

My hands sliced by chisel and plane,
Forgotten scars that still remain.

Rowing there on a meniscus,
Sea-soaked sand as tiny couscous.

*the sound of a Portuguese doughnut salesman.
Cataplana--(Portuguese fish stew)

Ralph Stott was born in Kent, England in 1957. He is married and has two daughters.  He studied design at the Medway College of Design in the mid-70's. Expressing ideas through the written/visual media, has always interested him. Ralph began to dedicate more time to poetry with The Writers and Poetry Alliance, in particular the 'Stylists' forum, over the last 3 years. He has self published one book called Legends For Lunchtime; a collection of short stories and has a second book pending called Twist and Twist Again, which is a collection of Twister poems, a form he created.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

It’s All Around Us--By Erich J. Goller--United States

It’s All Around Us
( Anaphora)

From the all the things near or far
From the light of the evening star
From the sunshine that swells the grain
From the blessed refreshing rain
From the special unique of human kind
From the sparks that come from the mind
From the promises of  early spring
From the natures beauty it does bring
From the salvation to calming peace
From the quiet things that bring release
From the eternal life and love
From the heavenly path that leads above
From the life upon the wonderful earth
From the embracing mothers love at birth
From the summer that must surrender
From the autumn with its colorful splendor
From the twilight’s purple glow
From the wonders the sky does show
From the morning, noon  and night
From the sunshine to the moon light

Erich J. Goller was born in Vienna, Austria. A close world war two survivor, in 1955, he immigrated to California, where he made his living as a mechanic and as an actor. He been married for 56 years, has one daughter and one son. He is a published author of seven books. He now resides In Nashville, Tennessee, still loves to write, also enjoys doing art work. His web site,

Summer Sounds--By Suzanne Clement--United States

Summer Sounds

A hot July day,
and there are motors running
all over the place.

In the dining room,
the air conditioner’s running
to keep the house cool.

Yellow-housed neighbors
who attend the church we do
have their driveway paved.

The blue-housed neighbors
are having some trees removed
from their front yard.

Drugstore radio
including some loud music
plays while we shop.

God, I thank you  that
I can compose this new poem
although motors run.

Suzanne Clement is a writer from Dover, New Hampshire.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Somewhere--By Jane Richer--Canada


Now there is a place in the silken webs of logic where somewhere does reside,
but the tangled dreams of my existence; remain hidden somewhere deep inside.
I've researched the truth of my essence and it is probable that I do exist,
but to what capacity and somewhere it is clear but now it remains in mist.

My parents are part of somewhere; but now my Dad is somewhere lurking in my past,
He died and has gone somewhere, where the angels welcome his walk at last.
My somewhere is still an uncompleted journal, one more page I reach to turn,
in the scribblings of my life; in joy and sorrow, I'll stretch some more to learn.

All of us have infinite somewheres of noisy whispers through a chaotic, mundane life,
some people sharing another's somewhere, but soon leaving for a husband or wife.
I try to change my somewhere at least every two years so it doesn't get stale,
then backtrack to my somewhere, looking for breadcrumbs down that familiar trail.

Now the logic behind my ramblings, is found somewhere in the recesses of my mind,
If I've confused you somewhere, relax; for I myself am seeking someone unique in kind.
The Designer of such an incredible, advanced mechanism as my very mind and soul,
and what lies along that incredulous journey; are the missing pieces to make me whole!

Jane Richer is a poet and writer who lives in Alberta, Canada and is so far published only online. She loves to poke fun at herself and rather likes to write tongue-in-cheek poetry but she will dabble in all kinds of genres to widen her creative nature. She loves to 'sister'- (write a complimentary poem) and feels that is the greatest form of acknowledgment and respect in expression for another poet's talent.

Surrender--By Patricia Nolan--United States


A band of turquoise binds
cobalt sky to red rock for
only a moment between
storm and sunset. Wind
massages the synapses
of my mind.

One boot in front of the other
from sere earth to the shade
of the turquoise berries on
a gnarly ancient juniper
where I sip water and sink
onto an entrada sandstone ledge,

and watch desert life scurry
around a tinaja, then
my eye catches strands
of turquoise in a nearby
rock hidden under old
bones bleached quiet white.

Patricia Nolan serves as coordinator for the Haiku Society of America Plains & Mountains Region. She is a member of Poetry West in Colorado Springs. She paints sumi-e (Japanese ink painting), also works in oil, pastel, and acrylic and writes poems in several Asian forms, as well as other poetry, essays, and outdoor articles. Western rivers, mountains, and trails provide most of her inspiration.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Just a Whisper--By Helen Dowd--Canada

Just a Whisper

Based on Mathew 11:28-30                                 

When you're feeling sad and lonely, and you're ready to despair,
And you think that those around you do not care;
When your health is gone, your money too, and life seems so unfair,
Take your problems to the Lord, and with Him share.

But your soul is dry and thirsty, and you feel too faint to pray,
And the devil tells you God is far away,
It is then you need assurance: go to Him without delay.
Just a whispered plea is all you need convey.

What you say is not important; of your cry God is aware.
He is more than willing for your load to bear.
He'll be standing by and waiting: He can hear you anywhere.
Be assured that God is listening for your prayer.

Jesus Christ, the Lord is bidding, "Come. On Me your burdens lay;
Then the worries of your life shall little weigh.
If you rest on Me, your Savior, I will take your cares away.
I am holding out My hands to you today."

Helen Dowd enjoys spending time at her computer, along side her husband of 56 years, writing poetry, story poems, stories about pets and life in general, as well as inspirational and Bible stories. She has one book published. Her stories and poems have been published in several Anthologies. She is presently a caregiver for her husband and sister, two dogs, three cats and 4 goldfish…Email address:

The Singer Within--By Maralee Gerke--United States

The Singer Within

I sang as a child,
all the bright songs of childhood.
At school I sang in the chorus.
I loved the sound of my voice,
alone and blended with others.
I was a singer.

Gradually, I gave up singing,
but inside my heart, the songs remained
reminders of the days when
I could shout out the words.

Now I sing my words onto the blank page
revealing myself.
Someday soon I’ll sing again.
Words will jump from the page
and fly from my lips
to fill the air with newly formed song,
the strong, lilting, melody of my reality.

Maralee Gerke lives and writes in Madras, Oregon. She is and avid reader and gardener. She describes herself as a work in progress. Her poems have been published in Calyx, Exit Thirteen, Moonset, Bathtub Gin, Anthology, Nerve Cowboy, Avocet, and Tigers Eye. She has published two books of poems and has had poetry and prose accepted in several anthologies. Her work can be seen online at Shadow Poetry, Long Story Short, and Moontown Café. She recently recorded 4 poems for the Oregon Poetic Voices Project. They can be heard at One of her poems( Refuge) was recently selected to be printed as a limited edition broadside by the Penland School of Crafts.

Autumn Colors--By Joyce Johnson--United States

Autumn Colors

Golden yellow, streaks of scarlet
Blended by a Master's hand.
No Monet with its soft blandness
Could reflect what God has planned.
Purple, oranges, reds and gold,
Autumn comes with colors bold.

Summer's packing up her greenery,
As she's hurried on her way
By brave Autumn changing scenery
Before Winter comes to stay.
Chocolate browns and brilliant reds
Closing down the flower beds.

Joyce Johnson lives in the beautiful Skagit Valley of Washington State. She owns a small farm and rents her land to a bulb grower. She is surrounded by beauty in the spring from the tulips and daffodils that inspire much of her poetry. Joyce will celebrate her 95th birthday in July of 2013.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

A Metaphysical Muse--By Brian Strand--England

A Metaphysical Muse

What thou lovest in her face
is colour, if her face be painted
on a board or wall, thou wilt
love it. She speaks, smiles and
kisses much. Because it is
painted do we not behold with
pleasure her painted face? Love
her who shows her love to thee,
in this smile, lovely to thee, all
her love forever be, if her face
forever, rests upon thee.

From John Donne’s prose Juvenilia 2,11,12

A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer (not a poet) to compile unique poetry from as a tribute to. The word phrasis is Greek for phrase.

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.

Airport Observations--By Charlotte Ann Zuzak--United States

Airport Observations

She follows him, clad in burqa
trying to manage two active children;
he walks ahead in American blue jeans
ignoring the noise behind him.
An airline crew, fatigued, exhausted,
heads for taxis toward home or hotel.
A group of retirees with tour agency bags
look over each other assessing each person:
how will I tolerate him for two weeks?
College students clown with each other,
bored with life and classes.
Snack bars serve cholesterol and alcohol,
Anything to fill the time.
Business men play with laptops,
trying to look important.
I trip over carry-on luggage
trying to get to my seat.

Charlotte Ann Zuzak received her BA degree from Albion College and her MA from the University of Michigan in foreign languages. She taught Spanish for several years on both the high school and college levels. She has always been involved with music, namely piano and organ. Charlotte worked with voice students as an accompanist, and also as a church organist. She has been involved in writing starting in grade school when she wrote short stories and poetry. After she quit teaching she returned to her love of writing. With her husband, a retired university dean, she has traveled extensively in Europe, Russia and the United States. Charlotte and her husband have a daughter who is a medical doctor in Bethesda, Maryland.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Haiku--By Ron C. Moss--Australia

children's laughter --
a weekend father
with sticks in his hair

--Heron's Nest 8:3, Sept 2006

tired of this world . . .
suddenly moonlight
through my window

--Simply Haiku 3:4

white dawn
the calf's breath
on the udder

--Heron's Nest 9:4, Dec 2007

fire duty
the newly ironed shirt
still warm

--Heron's Nest 16:1, 2013

winter stars
a sick cat withers
against the cold

--FreeXpression 2007

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

Limerick--By Gerald Heyder--United States


I once knew a gal named Rosie
to whom I used to give posies,
but she began questioning
wanting to know everything,
so I dumped her for being too nosey!

Gerald Heyder is a published poet from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Magic at the Mall--By Isha Wagner--New Zealand

Magic at the Mall

I want to kneel in adoration
as the music drifts through the mall
An old refrain I know so well
Have not heard in years

I hear it anew : my brain infused
A sense of wonder engulfing
Floating not walking across
the cream tiles, unsmiling faces
Hurrying by clutching plastic bags
Musical notes so subtle
Haunting beyond words

You need to listen carefully
To catch the melodious tones
Crowded over by whirring escalators
Stepping feet, playful children

Realisation how the mind craves
Obstacles to invoke a surge of bliss

Clarity stays simmering.

Isha Wagner is a New Zealand poet. She has resided in many countries including Iceland, Libya, India, and Australia.  She read some of her work at the VIII International Poetry Festival held in Granada, Nicaragua, in February 2012. She has had three collections of poetry published.

misty clouds--By jani johe webster--(In Memory-May 2013)--United States

jani johe shared her unique style and insight which left readers in awe.  But more importantly, she was a bright light in the writing community, always ready to support others in their journeys.  I am glad to have been able to call her my friend.  She will be missed by many.                                                                                                                  Sincerely, Karen O’Leary--Editor

misty clouds

don’t wait for me
i’ll catch up
while i look
for sunlite
and clouds of mist
after rain

i would hold moonlite
if i could
and the stars
that laugh
with dark

don’t wait for me
i’ll be there

counting waves
and talking
with grains
of sand

Thoughts from her daughter, Nila Webster--"My beloved mother, jani johe webster, may have written 'misty clouds' even before I was born. Somehow it survived over the years, from folder to folder, from basement to attic. Shortly before her passing in May, it resurfaced, as an omen and a gift. I knew she was beginning to slow her pace, to move into the next world. I knew then as I know now, she is there, counting waves and talking with grains of sand."

Sunday, August 4, 2013

A Haven--By Pam Murray--Canada

A Haven

Beneath the quiet trees I sit and write
Where coolness fans the fires of imagery
And sounds of insects, trees and birds above
All whisper secret thoughts and dreams to me.

The city speaks and wraps itself around
The quiet of my little rendezvous
But I am safe. The stillness conquers here
Allowing me to hide myself from view

And spend creative time within the trees
Protected from the stresses of the day.
In spirit I become a child again,
Imagination flying as I play.

This world of magic waits outside my door;
A haven that my heart was searching for.

Born in Calgary, Alberta, Pam Murray has been writing poetry since the mid-1960’s.  She was married for over 41 years and has two daughters, a son-in-law, and a grandson.  Pam has been published in a variety of venues.  Her proudest writing accomplishment was a poem she wrote for a United Way fundraiser, which was later framed with a French translation and hung on the wall of the legislature in Ottawa, Canada.  To her, poetry is a transposition of a vision she sees in her mind.  Writing and crocheting are her passions.

On David's Return--By James Rasmusson--United States

On David's Return

The cottage was small and squat
and set in a clearing
high above a summered vale.
The boy returned in dapper clothes
and frazzled mind and asked
to where it was he came.

Listening to the whispering stillness
of wind kissed trees he sank within
to cleanse away a recent stash
of hand-me-down dreams.

Young eyes moved
along the winding path below;
his quest had taken him
to sorcerers with resplendent robes
and sordid lies.

He was a child of God growing weary,
pausing to reflect along the bumpy road
that would take him to his True Home.

James began writing in the 1960’s and immediately showed a love for seasonal, humorous, and philosophical poetry. In the late 70’s, he became an ardent photographer and soon found that the two artistic mediums cross pollinated each other. West Michigan is an art Mecca with over 100 galleries and art camps with Jim residing in the lovely coastal town of Holland, Michigan. A practitioner of Surat Shabd Yoga since 1972, his art is an expression of his lifetime love affair with nature and his quest for truth. James is the winner of many awards in both photography and poetry including the 2005 Shadow Poetry 5th biannual chapbook competition. The artist says he likes to underscore the abstract and tease the mind and be ever alert for juxtapositions that express irony, absurdity, and poignancy, desiring for people to feel both tension and resolution in his compositions.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Nature Walk--By Phyllis Babcock--Canada

Nature Walk

Amongst the purple shadows in the early light
Flocks of birds taking ready for flight
Sprinkles of colors and various shades of green
A place that remains untouched and unseen.

Water slowly trickles along the small creek
Where you find pebbles and stones so unique
Overhead the bird of prey with eyes like a hawk
Will gaze over everything that crawls or walks.

The water with it's endless spring flow
A home for water lilies and the fish below
A haven for the birds of prey
A home for the foliage to decay.

Green moss gathers around the trees
Gathering place for moths, wasp and bees
Black ants invade the old tree stumps
While tall crap grass gathers in clumps.

Amongst the purple shadows in the early light
The prairie sunset turns to a soft scented night
I walk along the path by the creek
Finding the solitude that I seek.

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.

An Inseparable Love--By John W. (Bill) Williams--United States

An Inseparable Love

Love is a spirited emotion
that stirs the heart…
It is a connecting power
of lasting friendship.
Love is a smile that comes
from the depth of the soul;
its penetration is a warm feeling
that is all yours;
when shadows of sorrow bring sadness,
love embraces with a comforting assurance
that you’re not alone in your pain…
I understand this, and so do you:
For this is an inseparable love
you and I share.

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.

Friday, August 2, 2013

The African Face--By Ndongolera C. Mwangupili--Malawi

The African Face

My face, surreal and vacant,
Rich in melanin;
Ah, an uncanny metaphor
Of gem blackness.

The beard on my chin
Is a testament of absurdity;
Ah, shabby, shaggy and bushy
Like a deserted land
And lank like an unweeded land.

The eyes, like a hemp addict,
Fire-red with fury
Yet the blackness of the pupils
Stands unconsumed.

Ah, my face is unique!

Ndongolera C. Mwangupili works as a Senior Inspector of Schools in Malawi. He has vast experience as a teacher of English and Bible Knowledge. Many of his short stories, poems and essays have been published in the Malawi News and Weekend Nation. His stories are anthologized in Modern Stories from Malawi and The Bachelor of Chikanda and Other Stories. His poem “The Genesis” was anthologized in The Time Traveller of Maravi: New Poetry from Malawi. His other poem “Letters to a Comrade” is published online in India on He believes that there is a thin line between fiction and reality. All that people write is a re-creation of what is already known to the writer and exists not only in the mind of the writer but also outside the writer, therefore, fiction is actually facts written as if they are not facts. He is married to Angella, and they have a daughter Mary Magdalena.

The Old Broken Doll--By Shirley Smothers--United States

The Old Broken Doll

In an old house I found
an old doll.
It looked worn and scuffed and
like it had taken a fall.
Her arms were torn and
all out of kilter.
She was lying in some
kind of dirty old filter.
Her face was chipped,
broken and
her smile missing.
She seemed to say, “I was
meant for holding and kissing.”
I took the doll home, washed
and mended it as
best as I could.
I gave her to a sick little
girl. It brightened
her life just
as a doll should.

Shirley Smothers is a poet. A few of her poems have appeared in Lone Stars Magazine, The Poets Art, and The Poetry Explosion Newsletter.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

East Wind--By Gert W. Knop--Germany

East Wind

Misty veils

And yet

you hardly

see the trees.
And from the distance

east wind blows
across the country,
driving clouds

which I first

seemed so bright,
but now I see them

dark and heavy,
with east wind

blowing steady

in early morning light

Gert W. Knop, born in 1943, studies art and tropical agriculture in Germany and Scotland (University of Edinburgh). He has lived in many different countries and writes mainly in German, English and Spanish. He currently resides in Zittau (Saxony), Germany.

Ode To Nature--By Connie Marcum Wong--United States

Ode To Nature

Oh giver of life, you glorious Sun,
You instinctively know what must be done.
I bask in your warmth to gain energy,
Marvel how you raise up each plant and tree.

You, gracious Moon ever watchful at night
Even aware when your eye is closed tight.
You sway our emotions, also the sea;
Cause turmoil at times or tranquility.

I love you Earth and all of your creatures.
There's joy in knowing you are our teachers.
I will, to treat you with respect and care
And pray that the world will become aware

When we poison you, we poison us too.
Keeping you balanced will grow life anew.
We are blessed with Earth, sea, wind and fire;
Ether, divine, our longing desire

Helps us to treasure our blessings on Earth
And love that's bestowed when given our birth.
So embrace loyal Sun and moody Moon
As sweet Nature sings her loveliest tune.

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.


What a blessing it is to be a part of the writing community! Those that have placed ads are welcome to add additional information in the comments section.  People having questions or comments, may use the comment section or contact the writers/editors at websites or email addresses provided.  (Deadline for September ad column is August 25)


        Cindy Evans
        Donna Wallace
        David Fox

Please welcome them to our community.  We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Malawi, New Zealand, Nigeria, Portugal, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, United States and Wales.  Thank you to anyone who has been a part of this journey.                             --Sincerely,  Karen


jani johe webster's daughter, Nila, speaks to how her mother introduced her to the magic of creativity that lives within all of us.  The youtube link is

Rhoda Galgiani released Expressions From the Inside Out, a book of poetry in 2011. Rhoda's second book is a Child's Story entitled No Snow for Johnny in 2012. Both books are published by APF Publisher. They have received good reviews and is available online at and (search book titles or author's name at the appropriate website) or contact Rhoda at:

Brian Strand published his kindle e-book, Samuel Rutherford Phrasis, in July. A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer (not a poet) to compile unique poetry from as a tribute to, the word phrasis is Greek for phrase. Brian’s e-book is available on Amazon.  The link to his blog is

Patricia Nolan announces the release of her latest book Western Brushsrokes, a collection of haiku and Japanese ink art. Contact: or the book may seen at and ordered from:

Karen O’Leary released Whispers, her first book of poetry in 2011, published by APF Publisher.  It has been getting good reviews and is available at online at (Search Whispers under Karen O'Leary) or contact Karen at


Please consider supporting The Pen, The Jokester, and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage.  Thank you for considering this.                                                                                              ---Karen

Arthur C. Ford, poet/editor of The Pen (Poetry Newsletter) is looking for new subscribers and submissions. See information (click on guidelines).

Jean Calkins, editor: The Jokester, 2 pages of clean jokes free by email monthly, a forever stamp by snail mail (monthly or quarterly). Help bring smiles to shut-ins by contributing forever stamps. Even one stamp helps. Jean Calkins, 260 4th St., Waynesville, NC 28786-3762.

Maurice J. Reynolds, the editor of the poetry publication Creative Inspirations, is seeking poetry 20 lines or less for his print magazine. Complete guidelines are available at  Stamps or cash donations would be appreciated to help with mailing costs.

Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community.  Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to  Complete guidelines posted 1/21/2013.  Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.

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