Monday, November 30, 2015

Submission Guidelines (Please Note New Email Address)

Thank you for considering Whispers for a place to share your writing.  The guidelines follow:

1.  Submissions of unpublished and previously published work are acceptable.  Please do not send quotes from others unless they are in the context of the piece submitted and that the original author is given credit.  It is up to the author to obtain permission if needed for reprints.  By submitting to Whispers, the writer is assuring that the work is his or her own.  Whispers reserves the right to delete any work that has been copied from another writer without credit or authorization.

2.  Send one of the three following:

    ---1 poem 20 lines or less

    ---up to 5 haiku/senryu (please make sure to clearly identify that separate poems are being submitted)

    ---up to 3 tanka (see above)

    ---for people that are not poets, 1 short paragraph of encouragement will be considered

Writers are eligible for publication every other month.

3.  You may include a bio of 4-5 lines written in third person style.  See “Living Wings” published January 15, 2013 for an example.  A bio is not necessary for publication.

4.  No profanity, erotica, violence or other derogatory writing will be accepted.

5.  Whispers reserves the right to select poetry based on the goal stated at the end of the guidelines.

6.  Spiritual poetry is welcomed but the editor would like to have a variety of pieces that will uplift and inspire readers.  Humor is appreciated.

7.  Children’s poetry is appreciated.  Parent permission is required.  Please email before sending.

8.  Poetry will be published along the left margin for consistency.  Please keep that in mind when submitting.

9.  Preferred method of submission is to send poetry as a works document or in the body of an email with your name and country.  Please email your submission to Karen O’Leary at  If you would rather submit by snail mail, please email Karen for her address.  You may email her with any questions you may have.

10.  I hope you also participate by commenting on others’ writing. 

In this challenging time for many, it is the hope that Whispers will connect people in a way that is supportive, encouraging and inspiring to others.  Thank you for considering being a part of this community.

Haiku--By Arvinder Kaur--India

chiffon saree -
a butterfly around her waist
begins to flutter

painting class -
my grandson brings
an ocean on a pebble

moonlight spills
on the battlefield -
an empty helmet

the proposal
he never made -
smoke rings

Arvinder Kaur is an Associate professor in English and Media Studies. She writes haiku both in Punjabi as well as English. She has four books to her credit which include poetry, a work of translation and her first collection of punjabi haiku, Nimolian. Her work has been published in several haiku journals and anthologies. She lives in Chandigarh with her family.

What of Desire--By Dan Tharp--United States

What of Desire

What makes you think trees long for the breeze
to play upon their leaves?
And did you really consider whether trickling streams
rejoice to meander their way to a turbulent ocean?
And what of the rain which plays its melody
upon the surfaces of stones, leaching into their crevices?
Or tempestuous winds sowing the seeds of life
on fields eager to nourish their offspring?
What do you make of tenacious waves
pounding upon a rocky northeastern shore?
Do you suppose they are any less content
knowing they may not trespass her boundaries;
knowing they may only play at the feet
of the one to whom they are subdued?
What of the curtain dancing with a gentle breeze
before an open window to the songs of the birds beyond her reach?

And what of desire (the longing for affections lavished
on one enthralled with yearning)

the having takes away?

Dan Tharp is the author of four books of poetry, 3 of which are in chapbook form... Side by Side, Yielding Desire to Fate, A Season Made for Wondering and A Rose in the Briar Patch. Dan resides in Southern California.

Be at Peace--By Dr. Upma A. Sharma--India

Be at Peace

Conflict of societies, fight for boundaries,
Extreme collective aggression and we are at war .....

Ecosystem deteriorates, Infrastructure crushed
and modernisation of warfare,
Are we heading towards humanisation ?

Let one Tsunami rise or an earthquake shudder,
and everything finally at peace,
To make us understand that we,
the inhabitants, only are visitors,
And not born to own the land ....

Then why those mass graves, why the gunpowder,
and the nuclear weapons,
Learn some aesthetics and polemology ...

Let love wash internal rage and humanity tackle blood stains,
Altruism surface and nobility win,
So that birds can fly high and animals enjoy freedom,
Ecology and greens flourish as Mother Earth nurtures,

Serenity is in the air to each soul's perfect flair,
Let logical reasoning grow and Peace prevail ....

Passion for poetry can turn anyone crazy, Dr. Upma A. Sharma has proved this so well. She finds time from her busy schedule to satiate her appetite for words, words that rhyme with her heart. She feels that nothing in this world happens without a reason and so is poetry. This indeed is a purposeful expression of emotions and thoughts that are well oxygenated before putting them into circulation, and positive words certainly are a way to serenity.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Editor's Thoughts--Prayer for France and the World

Dear Whispers’ Friends,

It is with mixed emotion that I write this November editor’s column.  While I wish all of you a wonderful holiday season filled with joy, I know many of you are dealing with difficult challenges.  I hope you can find peace and some joy in the midst of your struggles.

I am sad to report that Erich Goller passed away on November 14.  We also said good-by to Beth Winchcombe last month.  I hope to do a tribute to Erich, but am waiting for family consent.  I respect the need for people’s privacy especially in the time of deep loss.  Like Beth, Erich was a friend that I will miss.  Please keep both of these writers and their families in your prayers.

It’s hard sometimes to find “Peace on Earth and Good Will to Man” in the wake of violence like the France terrorist attacks, the beheadings and murders in the Mideast and elsewhere in the world, and the stunning wave of teen violence.  Yet there are births and other celebrations of life Pope Francis reminded us of in his visits to various countries.  His message of love was a vision of hope for the future. 

For those that have been rocked and devastated by violence--

Prayer for France and the World
I pray you know peace--
    to walk safe streets
    to make choices without fear
    to truly know freedom

I wish you the gift of hope--
    to share a child’s smile
    to reach beyond survival
    to dream new dreams

I hope you have faith--
    to seek understanding
    to share a new vision
    to know in God all is possible

Please join me in prayer and hope as we walk into the next year.  May our leaders find ways to settle their differences in peace instead of bloodshed.  May we extend our own hands to those around us instead of judging others with different ideas than our own.  May our words resound around the world as a Whispers’ community spreading light and hope.

Please add your own thoughts and prayers as my words are just a humble beginning.  Thank you to each and every one of you that make our online journal/poetry community possible.


Karen O’Leary

Homecoming--By Scott Thomas Outlar--United States


I close my eyes for the briefest moment
and catch a glimpse of a tiny black dot
in the back of my mind
hovering behind my eyes
that suddenly explodes in red ignition
like a fiery halo
burning over a vast horizon
singing to me sweetly
luring me in like a siren
with a gentle whisper
to return
to come home
to be as One
in absolution

Scott Thomas Outlar spends the hours flowing and fluxing with the ever changing currents of the Tao River. His next chapbook, Songs of a Dissident, will be released in early 2016 through Transcendent Zero Press. He enjoys connecting with readers and fellow writers at his daily blog

The Lovers of the Dark--By Aju Mukhopadhyay--India

The Lovers of the Dark

Darkness keeps them stark
Bright light kills
They live in the caves dark
The aboriginal heritage of the earth
Man has abandoned project mining
Left the rocky caves wishing
To protect the lovers of the dark
Near Ponnawonica in Australia,
One of the earthly sites.

Aju Mukhopadhyay, a bilingual award winning poet, author and critic, writes fictions and essays too. He has authored 32 books and received several poetry awards from India and USA besides other honours. Recently he has received Albert Camus Centenary Writing Award, 2013 from Canada / Cyprus. He is a regular contributor to various magazines and e-zines in India and abroad. He is in the editorial and advisory board of some important literary journals. His poems and short stories have been widely anthologised and translated.

Tanka--By Anne Curran--New Zealand

vintage cider,
preserves and jelly,
in nana's cellar...
if I could bottle
one ounce of her wisdom

her dripping raincoat
hanging from a hook
on the porch ...
early for my ageing friend
to retire from the garden

with a smile
he kicks a drop goal ...
how good it feels
to be in the right place
at the right time

Anne Curran is a Japanese verse forms poet from Hamilton, New Zealand.  Anne has been writing poetry for about ten years with the encouragement of friends and family. She draws inspiration from the world around her. She has been fortunate to enjoy the wisdom of some fine editors and fellow poets.

When Paradise Returns--By Suzanne Delaney--United States

When Paradise Returns

That first year we cursed the flood,
channeled from the border creek
and basin of lakes that added their support,
King tides gave flux to sheets
of water, rising silently after falling,
following the low-lying land
spilling once again between
the waiting paperbarks

Our cattle, cut off from us, stood
utterly dejected, on these new
islands that formed - birds came
with the sounds of paradise,
re-claiming their natural habitat

That next year we waited with
the paperbarks, watching for the birds
to fill the wetland
waiting for them to fill the silent
fields again, as if by magic,
no longer cursed

Suzanne Delaney is a retired Registered Nurse. A resident of Hawaii, USA she was born in Tasmania. She now has time to pursue her passion for writing poetry, creating collages and for traveling.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Just Before The Dawn Broke Open--By James Diaz--United States

Just Before The Dawn Broke Open

Testing the pulse of this garden
Oh how long the night is
the weight of loss shifting
its rain inside the bone of wood
near the stove
I am weeping
tell me more
this is your story, not mine
I don't have the details
the right to intrude
when you go
fill me in
I was always just this hole beneath your feet
where the seed never took
and oh
oh how long this night has become.

James Diaz lives in upstate New York. His latest publications can be found in Chronogram, Commonline Journal, A Long Story Short and Unbroken Journal.

Shell of a Serpent--By Allison Grayhurst--Canada

Shell of a Serpent

These are great things,
what you take
with your mounting neglect.
They are things cast out
of the 'beautiful', that
dig into polar ice and
fossilize there; numb, cold,

And though you feel superior,
inhuman, hovering above
with a face carved
in one constant expression, you yourself
will not give light to the
lonely, will not illuminate
for the sake of another's need.

Your own pain, (cunning, hunting) is a
tentacle that quivers cold-blooded
for pity's gullible caress:

You distance your heart from the humble dancers.

Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. Twice nominated for Sundress Publications “Best of the Net” 2015, she has over 825 poems published in over 360 international journals. She has eleven published books of poetry, seven collections, eight chapbooks, and a chapbook pending publication. She lives in Toronto with her family. She also sculpts, working with clay;

Haiku--By Kelley White--United States

February 9th—
abandoned bird nests
become snow globes

Pediatrician Kelley White worked in inner city Philadelphia and now works in rural New Hampshire. Her poems have appeared in journals including Exquisite Corpse, Rattle and JAMA. Her most recent books are Toxic Environment (Boston Poet Press) and Two Birds in Flame (Beech River Books.) She received a 2008 Pennsylvania Council on the Arts grant.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Haiku--By Archana Kapoor Nagpal--India

my thoughts …
a cockatoo’s call

one by one my steps following a dandelion seed

sailing with my paperboats a moonbow

with the first snow …
blood pressure levels

at every tinkle of a bell sprinkling the holy water

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.

Night at the Duck Pond--By Tom Davis--United States

Night at the Duck Pond

Towering cypress
clothed in ragged gray-brown bark
and bearded with strands
of Spanish moss
ring the pond’s far end.
Cypress knees rise
from the water like stalagmites.
Giant cattails and platter-sized lily pads,
interlaced with long reed canarygrass,
host a choir of bullfrogs and katydids.
A small field road hugs its western side.
In the distance, a gator slaps its tail.
The dank smell of swamp, river, and
midnight dew churn in the air.
A whippoorwill cries its sad three-note song
as the moon shines a face of stunning gold.

In his younger years, Tom Davis served as a Special Force Combat Diver. It seems to him that he spent more time on, in, and under the water than as a landlubber. This and other adventures he has written about in his memoir, The Most Fun I Ever Had With My Clothes On: A March From Private to Colonel.

Monday, November 23, 2015

On Dit (It is said)--By Don Beukes--United Kingdom

On Dit (It is said)

It is said that God exists
some would argue something amiss
believers battle to understand faith
for some it might be too late
it is said time and again
how earthly life was back then
do we care or even wonder
how the past or present
drags us under?

It is said life is precious
like a drama in various sessions
culprits maim
destroy and plunder
the naïve just live on
amidst the tumultuous thunder
it is said man has a conscience
how easily we believe any nonsense
we cheat sin and judge
when all we need
is a divine plunge!

Don Beukes is a retired teacher of English who now devotes more time to share his words with our global village. Originally from Cape Town, South Africa, he grew up and was educated during the last two decades of Apartheid and want to share his literal mentality in order to enable others to adjust their moral compass in an ever-changing society. He also writes under the alias of SalamanDer.

At Winter’s First Snow--By Andrea Dietrich--United States

At Winter’s First Snow - Dodoitsu form

Soft pearls swirl in twilight's sky.
Lying down, we face heaven;
signaling our joy and thanks,
we make snow angels.

Andrea Dietrich grew up in Iowa and now resides in Utah with a spouse and two cats. She has two grown children and six grandchildren. Having graduated BYU with a Spanish major/ESL minor, she has spent most of her adult life teaching. It wasn't until 2000 that she began writing in earnest and discovering her "niche" as a writer of lyrical poetry. The internet opened up a new world for her, and she has spent nearly a decade now participating in poetry clubs, acting as a judge of poetry contests for various magazines and for the website Shadow Poetry.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Withering Hope--By Vasanthi S. Pillai--India

Withering Hope

As the light
escapes the body
and the mind,
darkness seeps
through gently,
embracing all the
sorrow in this world
to see the heart ache.
Or is that called trauma?

Vasanthi is a dreamer who completely enjoys writing and reading poetry, and every piece of her work is the result of a conversation with her soul.

"Thanksgiving"--By David Fox--United States


People on Thanksgiving Day
Poor or wealthy
Should be happy
If they're healthy.
So while you're having
Your celebration
Remember the less fortunate
Across the nation
Who haven't as much
As you have got
Before you put that turkey
In that pot
When you make your
Thanksgiving "toast"
Remember it's love
That matters most.

David Fox’s writing has appeared in over 100 venues, including newsletters, blogs, print journals and websites. He has been published in the U.K., Canada, India, Finland and the U.A.E.  He edits a print journal, The Poet's Art, (see his ad in the Whispers Ad column).

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Living with the Black Dog--By April Mae M. Berza--Philippines

Living with the Black Dog

(For the Bukas Puso at Isip Family Support Group
of Philippine General Hospital)

The world is a witness how I tame the Black Dog,
how I befriend it at night when the stars connive
with the moon to devise a plot against me,
seeking revenge that insomnia accompanies me
as I become intoxicated with a passion
greater then Romeo and Juliet’s or Antony
and Cleopatra’s; I inhale sadness each morning
when the tug of war between reluctance
and my medicines, Valpros and Risperidone,
is the only setting in my mind, sometimes,
I forget to take a bath or brush my teeth for days
just as I forget telephone numbers or birthdays,
I juggle six jobs at a moment or do nothing at all,
staring at the ceiling with a constellation of dust
to taste the sourgraping from my parents.
The world is a witness how I slayed the Black Dog
in a battle for sanity, I killed it and survived the attack,
I no longer fear sinking, sinking in the sea of suffering,
I would always be sailing in a tempest-tossed ship,
but I know I will survive, I will survive.

April Mae M. Berza is the author of Confession ng isang Bob Ong Fan (Flipside, 2014.) Her poems and short stories appeared in numerous publications in the US, Canada, Romania, India, Japan, UK and the Philippines. Her poems are translated in Crimean Tatar and Filipino. Some of her poems are published in Liwayway, The Siren, Poetica, Calliope, Maganda, Metric Conversions, Ani, The Manila Times, Contemporary Verse 2, and elsewhere.. Her poem "E-Martial Law" was broadcast on IndoPacific Radio on KPFA 94.1FM/ She is a member of Poetic Genius Society. She lives in Taguig, Philippines.

Haiku--By Barbara Tate--United States

no wasted motion
the winter wind

two steps forward
one step back

heat lightning
motion made seconded
back to square one

moment of truth
recovering from winter
we hold hands

velvet curtain
shoving fog aside
the sea breeze

Thoughts from Barbara--Haiku, Senryu, & Haibun are such a pleasure to write. I'd like to thank Francine Banwarth (ed: Frogpond), Paul Miller (ed: Modern Haiku), Bob Lucky (ed: Contemporary  Haibun Online, an'ya, Sonam Chhoki and Marianna Monaco of Cattails, Fay Aoyagi of The Heron’s Nest, and Mike Rehling for all the help and 'mini lessons'. I also want to thank Ayaz Daryl Nielsen of Bear Creek Haiku, and a special thanks to Karen O'Leary for my Whispers’ family and writing some good strong Tan Renga with me. I am truly blessed.

Friday, November 20, 2015

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Jack Horne--England and Constance LaFrance--Canada

Christmas Memories

By Jack Horne and Constance LaFrance

We walked through Whitleigh, early one winter evening,
many moons ago, with the sounds of the Salvation Army Band:
a carol service near the shops and I asked if we could stop.
We joined the jolly carolers and sang Star of Wonder,
the lyrics on a large screen, for those who didn't know them.
A dreary December night, but I recall feeling wonderfully warm:
it seemed to start inside and spread, filling my heart with happiness,
as I held my parents' hands, we only sang that one song,
for we were going to gran's, but I still smile at my memories
of a child's first carol service .... and wonder who else remembers.

The snow is falling outside my window, pretty delicate snowflakes,
It is another Christmas Eve, and I want to decorate the tree,
I got the tattered box from the basement that holds the decorations.
Within are all the memories of Christmas pasts,
And in my mind, I can still see all the happiness of yesterdays;
I see my sweet mother cooking and fussing about the house,
And I am helping father with the Christmas tree,
And gran is supervising from her rocking chair.
I touch each old decoration like the finest of lace and weep,
Weep for the three angels ... that dwell above.

It Never Came--By David Williams--England

It Never Came

Your industrial face carries the pain of waiting;
but it never came.
Your flesh pitted with the scars of wanting;
but it never came.
Your heart heavy with the sorrow of trying;
but it never came.
Your voice faint with the force of praying;
but it never came.
Your eyes pale with the sea of tears;
but it never came.
Your hands drip sweat with the worry;
but it never came.
Your soul cries out from the frustration;
but it never came.
For you, it was never meant to be;
It never came!

David Williams was born in England and has resided there all of his life. He started writing poetry at the tender age of 14. He was encouraged to enter a local school poetry contest and went on to win it. In later life, he joined many local poetry groups and writers circles, eventually becoming chairman. He has had 9 poetry books published and is collating material for two more books which will hopefully be out later this year. He holds workshops to help and encourage writers to understand the many different forms of poetry. He has won many contests and is also a recognised poetry judge.

Scene from a Bolivian Restaurant--By Marianne Szlyk--United States

Scene from a Bolivian Restaurant

I drizzle neon green sauce
onto fat, starchy kernels

as late morning’s light slinks in
like an impossibly thin teenager

past the bar
lined with liquor no one drinks.

Families eat lunch,
not breakfast, not brunch.

Nursing my can of diet soda,
I wonder

how the hot sauce and corn would taste
at home with our smaller, sweeter kernels.

I forget

we are only two blocks from the mall,
one block from the bus back home.

Marianne Szlyk is the editor of The Song Is... Recently, she published her second chapbook, I Dream of Empathy, with Flutter Press. Her first, Listening to Electric Cambodia, Looking Up at Trees of Heaven, was published by Kind of a Hurricane Press. Her poems have appeared in Long Exposure, Of/with, bird's thumb, Solar Nation, Quill and Parchment, Silver Birch Press' series, Jellyfish Whispers, Napalm and Novocaine, Poppy Road Review, and other online and print venues including Kind of a Hurricane Press' anthologies.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

The night didn’t cascade--By Sheikha A.--Pakistan and U.A.E.

The night didn’t cascade

like a curtain of tresses on your face,
the window watched the moon pecking
at its humility, the air a whirl of aphrodisiac
penetrations, if only you’d remember my name
on your lips like a prayer, count me on beads
but of your skin that breaks under the light
left on so you can watch me break
in my eyes, we both know which is more
beautiful, more durable, of better arts
practised, you flinch at the sight of me –
my ghosts – the same alluring ink,
a different page, different moon
and breaking glass.

Sheikha A. is from Pakistan and U.A.E. and often finds herself in a world of oscillation that most of the times motivates her writing too. She maintains a (or tries to) blog on

The Littlest Christmas Tree--By Robert L. Hinshaw--United States

The Littlest Christmas Tree

It stood alone Christmas Morn on the bleak and windswept mountainside!
Towering spruce that once surrounded it, graced many a cozy fireplace side.
Rejected again, the Littlest Christmas Tree was left so lonely and forlorn.
Dejected, it would spend Christmas with naught its branches to adorn.

Happy children had danced around taller and more majestic trees,
Shouting, "Daddy! Daddy! This is the one! Let's get it pretty please!"
Cheerful families gave it a passing glance as they sought the perfect tree.
The little tree with outstretched limbs cried, "Won't you please choose me?"

Mister Eagle soaring high above saw the little trees' hapless plight!
He mused, "This will not do!  I will get my friends to set things aright!"
He rallied all his forest and feathered friends to help decorate the tree!
From far and near they gathered on Christmas Morn in answer to his plea!

Crimson cardinals arrived to adorn each branch of the little spruce so blue!
Bluebirds by the gross settled upon its limbs adding to its colorful hue!
Topping the tree was the Symbol of Peace, a beautiful mourning dove!
Mister Eagle exclaimed, "Y'all done good!" as he eyed the scene from above!

Adding to its beauty were branches garlanded with newly-fallen snow!
All the forest creatures were gathered about the tree, their love to show!
'Twas reminiscent of animals gathered in The Manger so very long ago!
The Littlest Christmas Tree cried tears of joy for all who had made it glow!

Robert L. Hinshaw served 30 years in the Air Force retiring in 1978 in the grade of Chief Master Sergeant. He began writing poetry in 2002 at age 72 and has composed over 1100 poems.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

A Song of Loneliness--By Ndongolera C. Mwangupili--Malawi

A Song of Loneliness

Who will sing me
a song of hope?
who will cite lines
of love to me?
who will utter
verses of mercy to me?

I have walked a long distance
of humps and bumps
and when I look back
I see only one pair of footsteps
all along my journey.

Is life an unmusical song
sung by a lonesome soul?
is life a sad tale
told by a lone idiot?

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 two daughters Mary Magdalena and Princess Cleopatra.

Just for Fun--By Lisa DeVinney--United States

Just for Fun

Football pads and baseball bats,
Caps and muddy cleats,
Dirty dishes, dirty socks,
Dirty towels and sheets;

Backpacks here and blankets there.
Where’s my favorite shirt?
Got a game to get to and
No way…that’s not my dirt!

Oh how’s a girl to keep up;
What on earth am I to do?
Cuz all that’s just the husband…
When the kids arrive, I’m through!

Lisa DeVinney is a homemaker and mother of six in upstate New York. She enjoys photography and writing devotional poetry in her spare time. Lisa is the author of several books, including a devotional entitled I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes. She also maintains her own website at

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

"Happy Birthday" to You! Have a Great Day!--By Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson--Canary Islands

"Happy Birthday" to You! Have a Great Day!

Happy Birthday Mother and brother Ken
Hope you're enjoying yourselves up in Heaven
Along with my Dad brothers Harry, Robert too
And all other loved ones up there with you
I've been thinking of you all day long
With a love that's still just as strong
As it was when you were here with me
Lovingly holding me gently
I love you, I love you, this I'm sure you know
Just thinking of you gives me a happy glow
I could shed tears at the loss of thee
But these I know you wouldn't want to see
So Mam and Ken I am smiling as I say
"Happy Birthday" to You! Have a Great Day!
And I know you'll be looking down tomorrow too
Sending brother Graham down here much love from You

Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson is a coal miner’s daughter, the only girl among 6 lads.
A young mother to a son, she became a widow before she turned 18.  Patricia, then, married her childhood sweetheart who fathered her lovely son and two wonderful daughters.  Her children encouraged her to pursue her own talents.  After 51 years of marriage, she became a widow again recently.  She fills her time with poetry, helping others whenever she can.

Wisconsin Autumn--By Robert A. Hall--United States

Wisconsin Autumn

When the moon is full of bluster
And the wind its bidding does,
Then the birling leaves will muster
For the dance that ever was.

Then you know the Iceman's coming
With a breath that chills the soul.
With the sun our faces shunning,
Bank your fires with spring the goal

Robert A. Hall, a Marine Vietnam Veteran, served 5 terms in the Massachusetts State Senate. He was an Association Executive from 1982 to 2013, retiring due to pulmonary fibrosis for a lung transplant 12/23/13. His 11 books, including two of poetry, Old Jarhead Poems and Share the Cup are here: Royalties go to charity. He does the Old Jarhead blog.

Monday, November 16, 2015

“Cutting Both Ways”--By Marcus Omer--United States

“Cutting Both Ways”

Cradled in his hand,
it was an instrument of precision,
turning small pieces of wood
into works of art.

Sitting in the shade,
the shavings falling gently at his feet,
piling up
like the days of his solitary life.

Cradles in his hand,
a knife,
the fond memory of a Father’s Day
when days were bright and life was sweet.

Cradled in his heart,
A son,
who gave him a gift,
before he went away….

Marcus Omer got serious about writing after he retired in 1997. He draws his inspiration from the many emotions we experience in life. He has published Of Sunshine and Clouds with iUniverse and The Winding Road with Shadow Poetry. He’s also published in Snippets, The Magic of Words and several issues of Golden Words.

Wine Drops--By Isha Wagner--New Zealand

Wine Drops

I forget to remember
what it is I forget

Strange reality of today
walking the vineyards
then sipping pinot noir
that tastes nothing much
although the label
tells an elaborate story of
the crushed purple grapes

It is then I recall the rough
raw liquid poured into
carafes in Napoli
with dishes of pasta : we
sitting gloriously in shade
your eyes boring into mine.

Yes, I do remember what I forgot
It was the perfume of the wine
wafting its richness

Your eyes I cannot remember.

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.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Poet of the Month--Russell Sivey

Fields of Autumn

By Russell Sivey

Fields are full of orange and red today
and the trees are coming to follow suit
with the leaves all turning with perfect hue
the sun and the moon are in full pursuit.

The days are dimmer but filled with delight
the sky is turning grey and what a sight
but the color on the ground is what counts
the best leaves are glowing, makes it feel right.

This time of the year beauty inspires
breaking shine into pieces of daylight
shifting time to see this wondrous beauty
where flowers and trees show off in the light.

Autumn brings cooler air within these fields
the days are shorter with less light to see
letting the animals to roam around
going about the trees and tall grass, free.

There’s nothing greater than all its color
that this time of year brings to the forefront
the cool crisp autumn shows brilliant colors
glory to the Lord and His vast home-front!

From the editor--It is a pleasure to announce that Russell Sivey is November’s Poet of the Month!  He is a talented writer, accomplished in the use of rhyme and imagery. Readers at Whispers enjoy his poetry. He regularly shares thoughtful comments to encourage others at our online journal.  It is a joy to present Russell with this honor!

Thoughts on “Fields of Autumn”--Russell opens his poem with rich visual experience using multi-sense imagery.  The personification helps set the tone in his uplifting verse. The cadence and rhyme flow effortlessly to carry his timeless message.  This is a poem you will enjoy.

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


Karen O’Leary, Editor

The Snowman--By Ron Larson--United States

The Snowman

The parts of the snowman fell from the lined sky.
When the five kids assembled him, he became alive.
They made his cold heart feel really warm inside.
That the boys and girls were happy cannot be denied.

They gave him two small pieces of coal for eyes.
Then the snowman was able to see far and wide.
He considered his carrot nose a welcome surprise.
Why he had a comb for a mouth, you can surmise.

The temperature went up; he melted down out of sight.
But the fine memories he left behind feel so right.
Parts of him may return as dancing fireflies
Or as delightful rainbows uniting earth and sky.

Ron Larson is a retired community college professor (Ph.D.) and has had both fiction and non-fiction published in various journals over the years. He has been writing poetry for the last two years. His poems have been accepted by such diverse magazines as The American Dissident, Big Pulp, and WestWard Quarterly.

Cancer Concerns--By Anna-Marie Docherty--Wales

Cancer Concerns

How to tell the other half
How to tell the kids
How to tell family, friends
This hell that I've been bid

How to say it's cancer
How to tell I'm scared
How to be there for them
I'm really not prepared

How to tell what they think
How to ask for their help too
How to know I have the strength
Enough to pull us through

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.

Saturday, November 14, 2015

Haiku--By Maralee Gerke--United States

frozen notes
of coyote song-
first frost

winter soil
accepts the rain-
I imagine daffodils

delicate tracks
on crusted snow-
hungry quail

delicate tracks
on crusted snow-
hungry quail

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.

Prelude to Christmas--By Elizabeth Howard--United States

Prelude to Christmas

first snow falling
on the lamp-lit pines
golden beads sparkling
on the bough tips
church bells chiming--
a cow lows in the meadow

almost, I hear
a choir of angels

Elizabeth Howard lives in Crossville, Tennessee. She writes poetry and fiction. Her poems have appeared in Comstock Review, Big Muddy, Appalachian Heritage, Cold Mountain Review, Poem, Still, Mobius, Now & Then, Slant, and other journals.

Friday, November 13, 2015

I Tweak My Tree--By Pijush Kanti Deb--India

I Tweak My Tree

In the morning
I tweak my tree
and something is dropped
but far away from my open eyes and lips.
At noon
I tweak it again
and again something falls down
but on my blind back only .
In the after-noon
I tweak it again and again
and now something is poured down
straight to my open lips and eyes.
In the evening
I give it in charity
and it goes away
oozing out something divine
for healing my tired heart and soul.

Pijush Kanti Deb is a new Indian poet with more than 210 published or accepted poems in national and international magazines and journals like Down in the dirt, Tajmahal Review, Pennine Ink, Hollow Publishing, CreativicaMagazine, Muse India, Teeth Dream Magazine, Hermes Poetry Journal, Madusa’s Kitchen and Grey Borders. At present, he is working as an Associate Professor in Economics.

Tonight--By Joan McNerney--United States


Chimes tap against our
windowpane.  This evening
becomes starry sapphire
as sea gulls rise in
flight over rooftops.
Winds wrapping around
trees tossing leaves.

The court yard is full of
aromas from dinnertime.
Shadows growing longer
each minute.  Lights go
on and I wait for you.

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.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Path Beyond My Door--By Pam Murray--Canada

The Path Beyond My Door

I’ve wandered down this path before,
This magic realm beyond my door
Where sunlight sparkles leaf to leaf
And magic strengthens my belief

That heaven is around us now.
Life tries to let us know somehow
But we’re most often deaf and blind.
We’ve left this inner truth behind

Until that moment we reach out
And see its light that stills the doubt.
How could a world, so beautiful,
Not be from God. I feel its pull

And let its peace immerse my soul.
When life careens, out of control,
A glance outside is all I need
To gain release as I am freed.

This path that winds and bends around
The evergreens is hallowed ground
That calls me out into the day
As stresses simply fade away.

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.

It’s my move--By Richard Carl Subber--United States

It’s my move

Swing, my arms. Whirl me.

Touch my world, fingers. Make me feel.

Run, my legs. Move me.
     Take me somewhere.

See, my eyes. Yearn, my heart.
     Tempt me. Test me. Snare me.
          Make me content.

Then, turn, my feet. Take me home,
     but take a new road.

Richard Carl Subber (Rick) is a freelance editor, a writing coach and a historian. He’s a former newspaper reporter/editor who transferred his love of the right words to more satisfying expressions. His poems have been published in the Australia Times Poetry Magazine and elsewhere. Rick is a proud grandpa who is teaching his granddaughter to write, in case there is poetry in her future. His blog is,

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

The Gardener--By Joann Grisetti--United States

The Gardener

In every way we differ,
   In every way the same.
We converse in nightly silence,
   Daily He calls me by name.

 Come with me, work in my garden,
   Under the wide open sky;
Feeding and pruning the flowers,
   Tending to all that will die.

 The hours spent there together
   Pass week to week into years.
Our differences gently fading
   As twilight calmly appears.

 Leave with me, walk from my garden,
   Enter the wide open sky;
Where only the faithful will see
   Only believers will fly.

Joann Grisetti has been writing for 45 years. She is a retired teacher from Florida. She receives encouragement from her daughter and has recently enrolled in a creative writing workshop. She is a member of Poetry Soup. You can read more of her poetry there.

"Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife"--By Jack Horne--United States

"Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife"

We once exchanged so many kisses:
illicit furtive pleasures;
and holding hands, we'd shy from people:
survival safety measures.

The calendar was counting passion;
you waited for your freeing;
but now you've won your single status,
we come to disagreeing.

I wonder why your feelings altered:
a missing thrill of danger?
I find myself declared redundant -
and you shall seek a stranger.

Jack Horne enjoys reading and writing poetry.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Haiku--By Robert Epstein--United States

empty sky
she packs the muse
moving day

August night
I worm my way
into a poem

Labor Day
her dad’s goes to wonderland
not heaven

Labor Day
I feel like Exhibit A
at the zombie zoo

yowls I wake up a cat in my dreams

Robert Epstein is a licensed psychologist who lives and works in the San Francisco Bay Area. He has edited several anthologies: The Breath of Surrender: A Collection of Recovery-Oriented Haiku; Dreams Wander On: Contemporary Poems of Death Awareness; and The Temple Bell Stops: Contemporary Poems of Grief, Loss and Change; as well as two books of haiku: Checkout Time is Noon: Death Awareness Haiku; and A Walk Around Spring Lake: Haiku.  His most current anthology, The Sacred in Contemporary Haiku, was released in 2014.

In Summer’s Sunshine--By John Polselli--United States

In Summer’s Sunshine

She sang in summer’s sunshine when the mead
Was gilded--radiant, as was her strain
Of moonlight through the willows after rain,
Reflecting faintly in her eyes that freed
The tears that passion wrought and love decreed,
To harmonize the earth, and all its pain
Erase; eradicate transgression’s stain,
And, in its stead, bequeath untainted seed.
Albeit her immortal soul has fled,
Remembrance quickens every heart she roused;
Recalls her running with her arms outspread,
To welcome each companion she espoused
Before the autumn to the winter wed,
And left the leaves, like teardrops, falling from their boughs.

John Polselli’s poetry has been published in many literary journals and is the recipient of several Editor’s Choice Awards.  As a poet, John enjoys composing in all traditional forms including free verse as well as inventing his own.

Monday, November 9, 2015

I Like Her Style--By Ndaba Sibanda--Saudi Arabia

I Like Her Style

She has flair
and stunning hair

She is a stylist
on my grace list

and colouring

and up-styling 

Ndaba Sibanda is a Zimbabwean-born writer. His poems, essays and short stories have been published in Africa and the USA. Ndaba currently lives and teaches in Saudi Arabia. Of his career, he says, "writing is my life, and my second wife".

Making the Best of Life--By Jean Calkins--United States

Making the Best of Life

I am a captive of choices
    I have made.
No tears remain; I’ve shed them all.
    I live afraid
of years ahead, when darkness falls
    on ailing eyes.
My step has slowed, the aches and pains
    I realize
are with me till my long days end,
    as they have been
for countless years. There’s no relief
    from wisest men.
But I will walk my destined path
    assured that God
is watching every step I take
    though it be flawed.

Jean, at 82, has been writing poems since she was 18. For 25 years she published a popular poetry quarterly of up to 100 pages, with a subscribership of nearly 500. Illness in 1986 ended the magazine. She currently publishes, by email, a 2-page monthly of clean humor. Contact her at

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Tanka--By Marilyn Fleming--United States

splitting wood
in-between the silence
flicker drums
in the palm of my hand
I cup your beating heart

petulant sea
throwing foam against rocks
a taste of salt
my eyes dry in the wind
even gulls are crying

a strangeness
in the foothills
howling at the moon
one more sleepless night
my mouth speaks wild sounds

First appeared in Cattails, UHTS, September 2015

Marilyn Fleming was born and raised on a farm in Wisconsin. She has a special interest in oriental forms of poetry.

The Day Breaks--By Gert W. Knop--Germany

Der Tag zerbricht (German)

Der Tag zerbricht
im frühen Morgenlicht ,
nur flüchtige Laute
wie Vogelgesang,
durchzieht die blattlosen Bäume.
Bonjour tristesse,
der Vogel Hoffnung
verliert seine Federn
in Nebelschwaden

The Day Breaks (English)

The day breaks
in early morning light,
only fleeting sounds
like bird songs,
go through the leafless trees.
Bonjour tristesse,
the bird of hope
loses its feathers
in wafts of mist

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.

Saturday, November 7, 2015

My Father's Storehouse--By Christine Tate--United States

My Father's Storehouse

From heaven's vast storehouse
My Father provides;
He dispenses His blessings,
right where I reside.

When I stop and contemplate
how my needs are met,
I stand in amazement,
I've not one regret!

There's food on my table,
a roof o'er my head,
clothes for all seasons
and a warm, comfy bed!

His mercy and grace
are spread far and wide,
and those who believe
are well satisfied!

Christine Tate has been writing since 1994. She's the mother of  3 sons and has 8 grandchildren. She was widowed in 2007 and met her husband Artie, a widower with 6 children & 12 grandchildren, in a nursing facility where their mothers resided. They've been happily married 4 1/2 years. They describe their meeting as "God's divine appt." because of their faith, and the fact that they swore they'd never marry again.

The Other Day--By Keith O. J. Hunt--Canada

The Other Day

The other day,
   the trees blushed
   red and orange

The other day,
   the wind serenaded
   over the boughs
   singing sweetly:

That life is a change,
   we greet her smile,
   and we see what we hear:
   learning, feeling,
   knowing, believing,
   about the other day

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, November 6, 2015

We Wonder--By Virginia Johe--(In Memory 1911-2011)--United States

It is privilege to share poetry from talented writers that are no longer with us.  It is a reminder that our words live beyond a lifetime.  Virginia Johe is the mother of jani johe webster and the grandmother of Nila Webster, who penned her bio below.  It is Whispers’  first three generation family of writers. What a joy to publish their words!

                                         Sincerely--Karen O’Leary--Editor

We Wonder

What color is the rain
as it taps on our windowpane?
What color is a breeze
as it hides in the trees?

We wonder
what color is the air,
its fragrance sweet and rare?

What color is the sky --
gray, blue, white or pink
as it darkens into night?

We wonder ...

Virginia Johe (1911 - 2011) began to write poetry after she lost her beloved husband of over fifty years. She did this with the encouragement of her daughter, Rochester poet jani johe webster. jani, who is my mother, and who taught me the magic of creative writing, saw this great grief consuming her mother's life, and bought my grandmother Virginia an electric typewriter. Virginia set up a work area and began to type out her grief in the form of poetry. With jani's help, she submitted poetry to print journals for many years. This poem was written shortly after her husband's death, in 1980.

Poetry--By ayaz daryl nielsen--United States

Young snowboarders upon the rash enthusiasm
of youthfulness, splashes of light in the alpenglow,
making mistakes, adjusting within a sense of the
genuine, and moving us further toward the sacred.


There are no wrong words
There are no harsh winds
That can remove your memory,
shining friend,
From the hearts of us who love you.


ayaz daryl nielsen, a veteran, x-roughneck (as on oil rigs) and hospice nurse, editor of bear creek haiku (25+ years/125+ issues), homes for his poems include Lilliput Review, Cattails, High Coupe, Shamrock, Scifaikuest, Shemom, Whispers… and! online at bear creek haiku poetry, poems and info (translates as joie de vivre)

Thursday, November 5, 2015

The Bookworm's Dream--By Helen Dowd--Canada

The Bookworm's Dream

I dreamt I was a bookworm, hungry for a book.
I slipped into a library--just thought I'd take a look.
I squirmed on down the aisles from A clear through to Z.
I slid from children's literature, right into to poetry.

Alas! I was exhausted. I stopped then in my quest.
I crawled into a volume, right next to *Edgar Guest.
He told of Sunday supper when his many friends dropped in.
So I pitched right in and joined him, midst the merriment and din.

I slithered on to #Shakespeare--I found him quite a bore.
But I read his poem, "Winter." Too cold, I read no more.
And then I heard "The Raven," by +Edgar Allan Poe.
His constant "tapping", "tapping" made me just want to go.

I wormed my way to @Woodsworth. I liked his rhyme and style.
"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud." I stayed there quite awhile.
I saw his "host of daffodils that shine like starts at night."
Reluctantly I left him. I thought it only right.

I wiggled on to ^Whittier. John Greenleaf, that's his name.
He told of a Judge and a maiden, and of their secret pain.
"It might have been. It might have been." These words rang in my ear.
And suddenly I awakened. And I was still right here.


Author‘s note--* "Best of All Meals", Edgar A. Guest, # "Winter", by William Shakespeare+ "The Raven", Edgar Allan Poe @ "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud",. William Wordsworth ^ "Maud Muller", John Greenleaf Whittier


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, four cats and 3 gold fish.

Your Death…--By Richard Sponaugle--United States

Your Death…

didn’t bother me:
All things die
except those never born -
like pet rocks and dust bunnies.
Your dying young didn’t phase me:
You lived 50 times longer
than Summer leaves that ripen,
only to shrivel like prunes,
in the Winterish Autumn of their lives.
Your death from cancer never floored me:
It’s killed billions of creatures,
including puppies and pet bunnies.
At your funeral,
I celebrated your life and love,
’til your secret love
sobbed over your grave,
twice as loud as I ever cried.
Now he sobs and cries alone.

Richard Sponaugle was born 4-20-60 in Maryland and raised in Northern Virginia.  He received a BA from George Mason University.  A prolific poet and songwriter, he has been published in many venues.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Turkey Septolet--By Gerald McBreen--United States

Turkey Septolet

on the lawn
flipped awkwardly
over the fence

before the
Presidential Pardon.

Gerald McBreen is the Coordinator for the Striped Water Poets of Auburn, WA. They host an "open mic" every first Monday of the month. He is Poet Laureate of Pacific, WA. (2009-2015) His most recent award - winning the online Cover Letter Contest for July, 2014 - River Styx. He loves to see members of the Striped Water Poets advance and get published.

Redemption--By Subilaga Emmie Mulaga Jana--Malawi


Down glory lane lays an olive branch
Mercilessly pruned from old ranch
Gracefully swayed by a summer’s breeze
A memory seed beneath the ground
Romances soil when passionately ground
A subtle emergence of a new life
Unearths an everlasting sweet aroma
That emancipates souls from carnal ride
There is a wispy kiss to the whirl
As it mingles with heavenly will
Collaborating a symphony of gusty truth
As it wins souls with a commanding truce
Pure olives sprout from lonely souls
Outright healing from bleeding sores
Comes with a great celebration
For the rise of a new generation
There is no going back
For these, shall never lack

Born on 30th August 1980 at Lilongwe Central Hospital in Malawi, Subilaga has always loved to write since at a tender age. She wrote short stories and was always interested in things of art. English was always her favorite subject. Subilaga has been writing poems since the age of ten, and it is after someone read her poetry that he thought it was worth sharing. She has always been a spiritual person and is always in touch with her feelings. She believes the gift of poetry is deep spirited and comes from a deep connection with reality.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Perhaps You Know . . .--By Caryl Calsyn--United States

Perhaps You Know . . .

that since you left
there have been some good times.

Perhaps you also know . . .

That if I could, I’d trade them all
to have you back.

Caryl Calsyn is a retired Interior Designer with involvements in many areas including history, writing and singing groups. She has had a total of 86 poems published by nine different publications.

Equinox (haibun)--By Ralph Stott--England

Equinox (haibun)

Always summer, amongst the rolling hills, we would spend our youth. To the sound of church bells: long Sunday bike rides, back before dusk; time to count the conker-bounty of our saddlebags.

Always with our doors on the latch; mother buying pegs from the Romany lady whilst I picked parsley for dinner.

Pink junket and tinned satsumas, for 'afters', always on a Friday, in a time of change.

propeller shaft
projecting from a field
a plough

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 The Sounding.

Monday, November 2, 2015

Sunrise, Heaven And Nature Conspire!--By Robert Lindley--United States

Sunrise, Heaven And Nature Conspire!

At sunrise, when morn breaks into sweet day
Darkness, eases into another far lost realm
Light returns to splendor in its bright way
Sun-ship glowing, celestial giant at the helm!

We that rise up to see this wondrous event
soak in its beauty, holding its glory fast
Our future embraced and our past thus spent
each day's memories and hopes sail at last!

Heaven and Nature conspire to give that gift
hours await to explore life's great dreams
Darkness fled, giving again blessed day shift
full of promises riding magnificent streams!

At sunrise, when morn breaks into its sweet day
Earth gives man more time to love, dance and play!

Robert Lindley is poet from the Southern USA. He has been writing poetry since 1969. Robert writes with the intent to offer others words to enjoy and with high hopes he may inspire and brighten lives in some way.

Love--By Emile Pinet--Canada


Is what
Defines us
Human beings,
For it touches on
The fabric of our souls
And fills a void in our hearts.
Nothing else can bring us such joy,
Or inflict such devastating pain,
For it’s both the alpha and omega.

Emile Pinet was born in a small city, (Bathurst) New Brunswick, Canada, the third eldest of thirteen children, ten girls and three boys. He is the product of a semi-dysfunctional family, brought up by a physically abusive and controlling father, versus a loving, nurturing mother. Many of his poems reflect the uniqueness of nature, which he loves, and his poetic observations of life in general. Emile is 66 years old and has been writing poems since he was about 35.   The ideas started to come to him rapidly one day at work-- he decided to write them down and express himself through his poetry.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

With Kevin--By Lois Greene Stone--United States

With Kevin

Tiny fingers flung duck food into the water.
"Why do stones sink and boats float?"
He challenged my learning with such
questions. Ducks paddled closer to the edge
pushing beaks into morsels. We dropped
some on the bank to welcome birds.
He thanked me for the walk along the canal
and feeding ducks. August 2015,
fingers flung duck food into the water.
The cracked corn felt smooth and we
trickled some on the bank for the birds.
Ducks paddled competing for nourishment.
"Do you remember...?" I questioned.
His strong fingers touched my hand.
"Not too many twenty-three year old
boys would enjoy feeding ducks
with Grandma," and now I thanked
him for taking me.

Lois Greene Stone, writer and poet, has been syndicated worldwide. Poetry and personal essays have been included in hard & soft cover book anthologies. Collections of her personal items/ photos/ memorabilia are in major museums including twelve different divisions of The Smithsonian.

again--By Suzanne Webb--United States


empty that sea-glassed heart
broken into smithereens...again

empty it back to the sea
scatter that splintered heart
beyond the shore
and cast all the colored shards
of the heart
off the pier
then let the wind
reshape it...again

and have the sunbeams
ask the moonbeams
and the glittering starlights above
to remold that
shattered fragmented
sea-glassed heart


Suzanne Webb has spent a lifetime in public education enhancing learning through photography. She has dedicated her energy to the art of teaching and to showing children of all ages the wonder of creativity. A fortunate stroke of serendipity introduced her to "a timeless poet" named jani johe webster from Upstate New York. Her poetry influenced Suzanne's teaching practices and photography. Suzanne and jani collaborated together many times and created two books that are collections of photography and poetry: Whispers for a Magical Time and Ripples of Light. Suzanne resides in the historic seaport city of Salem, Massachusetts.



            Philip David Noble--Scotland
            JD DeHart--United States
            Vernon Norris--United States
            Alice Couch--United States
            Anushi Varma--United States
            Mary Jo Balistreri--United States
            Molly Forrester--United States

Please welcome them to our community.  We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Brazil, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, Costa Rica, England, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Israel, Malawi, Malta, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Pakistan, Philippines, Portugal, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Scotland, Singapore, Tunisia, Turkey, U.A.E., United Kingdom, United States and Wales.  I look forward to expanding this list in the future. Thank you to everyone that has supported Whispers in any way.                                         -Sincerely,  Karen

We have a world wide audience. If you are currently reading Whispers, please consider submitting a poem for consideration. You may contact Karen at  for guidelines. Thank you.

Note--Ads due for December column by November 25


John W. Williams has a new chapbook called A Cup of Warm Words for your enjoyment.  The book includes 82 poems on love, the art of living, nature, spiritual verse, and philosophy.  An autographed issue is available for $8 including postage and handling by contacting him at PO Box 326, Martin, GA 30557

Vasanthi Swetha runs a page on facebook called 'A Dreamer's Destination' and it primarily deals with micro poetry and musings. She welcomes discussions on poetry and sharing of poetry pieces . The link to the website is as under:

Scott Thomas Outlar runs the site 17Numa where links to his published poetry, essays, and fiction can be found. The site also features a page devoted to literary publications which currently has nearly 150 venues listed. The blog’s page at 17Numa has links to the personal sites of other writers and artists, and has been designed with the hope that artists from all fields will check out and be inspired by the work of their contemporaries.

Angelee Deodhar's, Journeys 2015, An Anthology of International Haibun, with 145 haibun by 31 poets of international repute, is available from  For ordering details, here: or contact Angelee at

Beth Winchcombe announces her novel, For LOVE of Maria: A compelling love story. This is currently available in paperback on, also priced at £7-99p. Kindle version to download for just £2-00p. Published by Diadem Books, Author name Beth Richards.

Russell Sivey has published a poetry book called Halloween Horrors II. This book can be purchased at, search Halloween Horrors II. Please be sure you select the Halloween Horrors II as that one is the correct book.

Robert P. Hansen's forthcoming novel Angst (Book 4 of the Angus the Mage fantasy series) will become available in June or early July. In anticipation of this event, he has made the first book of the series free as an eBook through several retailers. For more on this and his other books, visit his blog at:

Jack Horne announces the release of his second novel, Cyber Vamps: a paranormal-fantasy romance. This book is currently available from, price $3.99

Paul Callus published his first ebook of poetry called Meander in December 2014. It is a collection of 86 poems and songs which should appeal to those who read poetry for pleasure and relaxation. It is available at Amazon.

Pijush Kanti Deb released a poetry collection, Beneath the Shadow of a White Pigeon, published by The Hollow Publishing. More information about the book is available at,

Marianne Szlyk has released a new chapbook, Listening to Electric Cambodia Looking Up at Trees at Heaven, through Kind of a Hurricane Press' Barometric Pressures Authors Series. You may download the chapbook for free at this site: Thank you.

Celine Rose Mariotti has a new mystery/detective book called Minister’s Shoes in which Rev. Castle helps Sada Sampson find her husband and he also proves that Trevor is innocent of killing Cartwright. The story involves casino deals, infidelity, gambling and some big town gossips who are knee deep in the casino deals.  Price of book is: $11.00. If you live in CT, sales tax is 6.35 so price would be $11.70.  Postage is $2.70.  You can order from Amazon or you can order from me:

Maureen Sudlow has a poetry book, Antipodes, was released in early December. More information available on her website

Lisa DeVinney has a website for her devotional poetry called Lifting My Eyes, at

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 Jokester and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage.  Thank you for considering this.                                                                                           ---Karen     

Maurice J. Reynolds would like to announce that To God be the Glory! Publications and Creative Inspirations are undergoing some new and exciting changes. At this time, Creative Inspirations is accepting poetry submissions. For more information and guidelines, go to:, or write to: To God be the Glory Publications, Attn: Creative Inspirations Guidelines, P.O. Box 19051, Kalamazoo, MI 49019.

ayaz daryl nielsen's print publication bear creek haiku is always open for postal submissions, mail poetry to bear creek haiku, PO Box 596, Longmont, CO 80502, USA, 11 lines and less, include SASE. Can be contacted at, blog site is

Tom Davis, publisher of Old Mountain Press, invites all to review his eBook site (Kindle and NOOK) where numerous Old Mountain Press Anthologies of poetry and prose are listed see: Self-publish an electronic book e-book with Old Mountain Press. Visit Old Mountain Press' eBook site at

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.

David Fox is seeking family-friendly poems for his magazine, The Poet's Art. Rates for the publication are $7 an issue or $25 for a 4 issue subscription. Checks should be made to cash.  Foreign contributors should pay $10 an issue or $35 for a subscription by international money order or American cash only.  Send submissions and  money for subscriptions to David Fox,171 Silverleaf Lane, Islandia, NY 11749 USA.

Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community.  Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to Complete guidelines posted at the end of each month.  Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.

Ads are placed by the underlined names.  Whispers has not verified the accuracy of all the information.