Wednesday, December 31, 2014


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  Submissions of unpublished and previously published work are acceptable.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.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Friendship’s Light/Editor's Thoughts--By Karen O'Leary--United States

Friendship’s Light

arms stretch
across the miles
in letters bearing words
to lighten the load and keep hope

This has been a good year for Whispers.  Part of the goal for the online journal when I started it, almost two years ago, was to connect writers from different circles.  It is such a joy to see friendships developing.  Whispers has had over 50,000 views this year.  Thank you to each and everyone for your part in this accomplishment.  Since inception over 170 writers have contributed their talents, ranging from age 12 to in the 90’s.  I hope you feel our online journal is a welcoming community and will continue to enjoy the gift of words.  Best wishes to all of you in your writing journeys.  May you be blessed with joy in the New Year.

Warm regards,

Karen O’Leary
Whispers’ Editor


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.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Siren Song--By Robert P. Hansen--United States

Siren Song

Her body would engulf the hungry eye—
A feast of pure temptation to be had!
Her gentle touch would drive a man insane;
A single kiss would leave him raving mad!
Her sultry voice sings symphonies of love
that tremble in the ear of every man;
Her words entangle with the breeze and surf
to lure the wayward sailor to his end;
He floats adrift upon her melody
until his raft comes crashing to the shore;
She draws him inland to his tragedy:
A slow decay that lingers—death forlorn.
But what of her? This temptress on the wind?
Will her lonely vigil ever end?

Robert P. Hansen teaches philosophy and ethics at a community college. In addition to poetry, he also writes genre fiction. He recently published a collection of mystery and science fiction stories (Have You Seen My Cat? And Other Stories) on Amazon and the third book of his Angus the Mage fantasy series (The Golden Key) will be published in January, 2015. For more information on his writing and where to find what he has published, visit his blog at:

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Haiku--By Lavana Kray--Romania

power cut -
the snowflakes pair off
for a dance

old watercolour -
a dripping tear
makes the difference

ice fishing -
the wind bites

squally words-
your breath
spotting the night

high snow-
a starling pecking
the door bell grain

Lavana Kray is from Iasi – Romania. She is passionate about writing and photography. The nature and the events of her life are topics of inspiration. She believes that there is a core of poetry in all things. Both haiku and haiga have been published in: Haiku Canada Review, Asahi Shimbun, The Mainichi, World Haiku Association, Daily Haiga, Word Haiku Review, Haiku Presence and others… She was chosen for Haiku Euro Top 100-edition 2013. This is her blog:

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Christmas Memories Long Ago--By Celine Rose Mariotti--United States

Christmas Memories Long Ago

Christmas memories long ago,
Rush to my mind in a flow,
Nonie making dough for the pasta,
Margaret and I helping her,
Nonie always gave us a dish of ricotta cheese to eat,
Grandpa at the head of the table making the raviolis,
Uncle Dominic in the parlor watching a football game,
My Mom upstairs getting the house ready for Christmas,
Changing the curtains, changing the doilies,
My Dad helping us to put up our tree,
Testing the lights to make sure they were working,
My sister and I helping my Mom bake our cookies,
My Dad on the phone calling his old Army buddies,
My Dad playing Santa Claus, and I would
Get up and find him putting the presents under our tree,
“Skinny, you’re Santa Claus!” I would exclaim
Christmas memories of long ago,
Tucked away and wrapped with a bow.

Celine Rose Mariotti is an accomplished writer whose work has appeared in magazines all over the USA, Canada, England, Scotland, Australia and India. Some of those magazines include: Green’s Magazine, Poet’s Review, Poet’s Art, Tombigbee, Hindu Young World, Magnolia Quarterly, Lone Stars Magazine, Pablo Lennis, Coffee Ground Breakfast, Pink Chameleon and many more. She has had six books published. She plays the guitar and banjo; has her own home business and lives with her family in Shelton,CT.

Some Verses of Ghalib--Translated by Sunil Uniyal--India

Some Verses of Ghalib (Translated by Sunil Uniyal) ~

Even a task that looks easy, can prove to be a difficult thing
Indeed it's hard for any man to be a simple human being !
A drop by merging into the sea, attains its bliss
Pain becomes a panacea, when it crosses all limits
All elements of nature are destined to decay
The sun is here like a lamp in whirlwind's way
Know even the songs of heart in grief, to be a gift of fortune
For, this lyre of existence would one day be without its tune
Ghaiib, when on the shore, my ship has arrived already
Why to rant before God, the pilot's idiosyncrasy?

(Note: These verses are from my work on Mirza Ghalib, the nineteenth century Urdu poet of Delhi, India- Tears of Blood- Selected Verses of Ghalib, Partridge, a Penguin Random House Co., July 2014, available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Kindle).

Sunil Uniyal ( born 1953-) is a poet and translator based in New Delhi, India. He has been writing haiku and poems for over thirty years and many of these have appeared in e-journals like Muse India, Kritya, AHA Poetry, Poetica Magazine, Sketch Book, Notes From the Gean, A Hundred Gourds and Haiku Dreaming Australia. His work in translation includes, The Target is Behind the Sky -Fifty Poems of Kabir, brought out by the Low Price Publications, Delhi in February 2012.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Strength In Silence--By Colleen Keller Breuning--United States

Strength In Silence

Our tears dissolve in bitter wine,
Green grapes withered on tangled vine.
Dark skies gave way to calling crow,
You slipped away to indigo.

Wispy clouds reveal hints of truth --
Soul once full of vibrance and youth.
When twilight met the fall’s first snow,
You slipped away to indigo.

Pureness your legacy imparts,
Forever branded on our hearts.
Strength in silence, your spirit glows.
You slipped away to indigo.

Our tears dissolve in bitter wine,
You slipped away to indigo.

For my dear father-in-law, Rudy…. praying for you as you begin your final journey toward the light. I love you.

Colleen Keller Breuning is a poet and photographer who was born and raised in Maryland. She currently resides in Purcellville, Virginia. Her poetry, short stories and photography have been published in a variety of print and online magazines during the past decade. Her first poetry book, Shadows of My Father, was a tribute to her father and published in 2011. She is currently working on her second book of poetry, along with assorted photography projects. She participates in several online writing groups. In addition to poetry and photography, she loves nature, music, cats and wine (not necessarily in that order).

Is Jealousy Love--By Frances Simwinga--Malawi

Is Jealousy Love

Take it to the blue waters of our lake
It won't swim alongside patience.
Bless it with wings to soar
It won't fly alongside fidelity.

It breeds distrust.
It betrays like disloyalty.
Its peers are but envy and doubt.

Then how come call it love?

To be its blind disciple
It can beckon and con you to alter your view
About your initial vows with your spouse.
By feeding lies to raze the knot you had tied.

So, heed to these letters or If already a victim better
Disengage now it's not late
You will surely feel much better latter
For it is not love
If it were, it would be patient and loyal and self-controlled?

Frances Simwinga is a budding poet. He has discovered healing in poetry. He happens to have a bias towards slam poetry but greatly enjoys the written word too.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Seasons--By Joann Grisetti--United States


I watch them fall, those autumn leaves
In reds and golds stirred by the breeze;
After they fall we rake and rake
Huge piles for jumping, then remake,
Heaps standing round the naked trees.

Overnight the lakes solid freeze
Icicles form, and finally,
Dancing in the evening – snowflakes -
                 I watch them fall.

And then the sun begins to tease,
Bulbs spring open sure to please,
Young buds stretch and grow awake
Cherry petals, pink and white, shake
As gentle winds from shoots release
                 I watch them fall.

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.

The Probe--By Terry O’Leary--France

The Probe

The scientists flung the Rosetta
like spinning a ball in rouletta.
The nerds were annoyed
when their progeny buoyed.
All was saved with a back turbojeta

Settling down on an icy ast'roid,
which was neither oblong nor spheroid,
they said "Philae be grounded",
instead she rebounded
and almost was lost in the void.

With parties and money misdealt
the project was left needing gelt.
And cells lacking power
sent nerds to the shower
while watching the meteor melt.

Author’s note--I wrote these limericks about the space probe, Philae, that recently landed (after 10 years in flight! traversing over 6 billion miles) on the comet 67P/Churyumove-Gerasimenko. The probe (weighing about 200 pounds) was carried by the Rosetta spacecraft (about 6000 pounds) and landed on the distorted rugby-ball shaped comet (a stone, about 2.5 miles in diameter, weighing about 20 trillion pounds), the comet traveling at over 40 000 miles per hour....

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

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

sound of dreams--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 is missed by many.                                                                        Sincerely, Karen O’Leary--Editor

sound of dreams

what are
the sounds of dreams
on a winter
    dark night

it has been snowing steadily
and dawn comes all white and silent
with snowflakes dressed
like tiny poems

Thoughts from Nila Webster--This poem, like so many of my mother's captures the Zen of the season. Winter does bring its dark nights, for certain, yet the image of dawn 'white' and 'silent' is filled with hope and beauty. I love the idea that the snowflakes are dressed like tiny poems.

God is Everywhere--By Shirley Smothers--United States

God is Everywhere

God is in
the flowers,
God is in
the trees.
God is in
the sky,
God is in
the breeze.
God is
you go,
you roam.
But most
of all
God is in
the heart.
Make yours
your home.

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

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

The Fourth Season--By David Williams--England

The Fourth Season

The ghostly birch extends it’s arms;
fingers protruding into the dark night
shadows- of geranium stain the ground.
A landscape so bleak it…
struggles against the thin air,
like shy lovers touching hands.

I trudge heavily, ground -
laden with snow, it
from white eyelashes, one blink
brings an avalanche
catching the low sun.
Suddenly the carpet is full of stars.

The forest silently ticks on, minute calls
murmuring, shipwrecked sirens…Scentless.
Slats of light, tease through naked
venetian bones, our eyes eat the warmth.
Beneath the earth sap stirs
before sneaking into spring…

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.

Starlight--By Jim Teeters--United States


an evening star shines light below
the distant spark bursts forth alone
in darkness dim its light will show
a warrior's gun, a soldier’s moan

righteous leaders inspire with truth
but tyrants rule by fear and lies
they send to battle precious youth
a morning star looks down and cries

today let’s pray with hands upraised
the little star will shine on love
the evening star will be amazed
delighted, laugh and dance above

now prayer alone won't win the day
each caring soul must take command
a star can shine with bright display
but acts of love must save our land

Jim Teeters has published poetry in several anthologies. He conducts poetry workshops for children and adults and is active in poetry readings in the Seattle area through the Striped Water Poets. He is the author of six poetry collections and the book, Teach with Style, (ASTD Press July 2013). Jim is a retired social worker living in Kent, Washington.

Monday, December 22, 2014


Brian Strand, an accomplished writer, generously offered to be the activity editor for this wonderful opportunity.  He invited writers to explore his broken monoku form.  The criteria for the form follows--

No title, a line of verse broken into two at the caesura (the natural breathing space or pause in a line of verse, usually near the middle).

I would like to thank Brian for selecting these poems for publication and all the contributors that participated in this activity.  It is a growing experience to try new things and a pleasure to see so many wonderful poems below.  I hope you enjoy them.

                                            --Karen O’Leary, Whispers’ Editor

A memorial plaque on a park-bench

    someone reads over your shoulder

By Ralph Stott

the in-between moment -

    twilight emerges

By ayaz daryl nielsen

Child is born on Christmas-

    cries just like all others.

By Arthur C. Ford, Sr.

silence in the room-

    a decorated Christmas tree

By Sara Kendrick

hope, love greet each other –

    ghosts from the past

By Beth Winchcombe

On the long bridge of morning-

    splashes of dreams

By Joan McNerney

visiting the home-

    who will I be

By Ron Gognet

small fingers curl-

    a tear falls from mama's cheek

By Olive Eloisa Guillermo

Yuletide songs--

    a widow's tears

By Karen O'Leary

walking in the snow -

    warm companionship

By Jack Horne

Christmas day-

    no one smiles all of the time

By Barbara Tate

parish barbecue –

    wine loosens barbed tongues

By Anne Curran

red rose's weep -

    crystal tears upon autumn's wind

By Rick Parise

empty cupboards –

    we go to the city mission for lunch

By Maureen Sudlow

Holly hanging from the doorway...

    thorns hang from a crown

By Phyllis Babcock

after the funeral-

    only tear he ever shed

By Peggy French

Gone to seed-

    onion blooms

By Marianne Szylk

on the verge, road kill rabbit -

    hooded crows arrive for the wake

By Brian Strand

** NOTE- Variations to the basic imagist form can also be as follows –sequenced/as ekphrasis/light & humerous/titled to make a third line/epigrammatic/and as a quaternion -as exampled in Brian Strand’s recent kindle ebook-Broken Monoku-a definitive guide (a sample from which can be heard recited on youtube.)

Haiku--By Rita Odeh--Israel

waking to
the pond's song...
a lotus

narrow path...
following a monarch

first light…
emptying a seashell
of shadows

pilgrim's chant-
slowly, the lotus unfold
their petals

Shikoku temples-
a pilgrim and his shadow
follow the light

Rita Odeh is the author of seven books, including Buds of Dream which was released May 2014 and is available from Amazon. Her haiku and haiga have been honored with many awards. To read more of her poems, please go to Catching the Moment,

Winter Storm--By Suzanne Clement--United States

Winter Storm

fall from the sky
as if a big box of
laundry detergent’s been opened
and spilled.

Suzanne Clement is a writer from Dover, New Hampshire.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

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

The Moldy Closet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Star Gazer

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

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

Friday, December 19, 2014

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

God’s Magic

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

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

Whispered Shadows--By David Coon--United States

Whispered Shadows

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Rain over Vietnam--By Paul Callus--Malta

Rain over Vietnam 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrapped in Love

By Sara Kendrick and Doris Culverhouse

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

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

visiting mom
at the home--
who will I be

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

dogs romp in my yard--
    spontaneous flea market

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

squirrels twitching tails--
    text messages

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

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

When She Sleeps

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

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

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

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

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

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Winter--By Yvonne Sparkes--England


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

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

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

The Perfect Christmas Tree

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

Robert Hewett Sr. was born 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 ""

Monday, December 15, 2014

Haiku--By Ron C. Moss--Australia

mountain lake
the inner circles
of a raindrop

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

cosmic dust
the feel of another’s pulse
on mine

breathless . . .
my fingers ripple
a star cluster

snowflakes settle
on scallop shells
lit by the moon

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

Poet of the Month--Pam Murray

October Is No Lady

By Pam Murray

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Karen O’Leary, Editor

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Autumn Turning--By Linda Hurdwell--England

Autumn Turning

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blizzard--By Joan McNerney--United States


O wonderful emergency!

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday, December 13, 2014

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

White Horizon

By Angelee Deodhar, Arvinder Kaur and Paresh Tiwari

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ekphrasis is based on  Andrew Wyeth's painting House

Haiku--By Archana Kapoor Nagpal--India

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

dawn breaks
once again he makes
his last peg

his last hair strand
on my comb

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

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

Winter Divinity

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

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

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

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

Friday, December 12, 2014

Musings--By Brian Strand--England


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

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

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

A Walk In Winter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Thank You Lord--By Phyllis Babcock--Canada

Thank You Lord

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


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


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

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

Chariot of  Fire

By Paul Callus and Olive E. Guillermo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sleigh Ride

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

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

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Haiku--By Ali Znaidi--Tunisia

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

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

Yellow dust.
Waves of pollen
in the air.

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

Glittering dates.
No mosquitoes
on my skin.

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

flashback--By Peggy Dugan French--United States


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


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

Previously published in Shemom

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

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

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

Racialized Chinese Canadians

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

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

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

chinks go home!
again and again
he scrubs his hand

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

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

In the Bottomlands

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

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

Christmas Eve--By Eleanor Michael--United States

Christmas Eve

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

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

Monday, December 8, 2014

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

November Dreams

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

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

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

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

When the Muse Dictates

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

Gerald Heyder is a published poet from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Tanka--By Shivapriya Ganapathy--India

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

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

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

The Things That Bug Me About You!--By Robert A. Dufresne--United States

The Things That Bug Me About You!

My goodness, how rude can one get?
I haven’t even finished speaking yet.
Your uncaring interruption,
has ruined my thought construction.

Now I have to put my thoughts on the shelf.
Couldn’t you see I was talking to myself ?!

And when I ask you to look for my keys,
don’t make me beg on my knees.
I hate it when you laugh to beat the band,
just because you see them in my hand!

And last week when I asked you to find my phone,
Your unkind remark cut me to the bone.
You said, “You are losing your mind I fear.
What’s that thing on your ear?”

It just isn’t nice, no matter how true it rings,
accusing me of always losing things!
I just hate that quirk about you!! seen my other shoe?

Robert A. Dufresne was born in Vermont and raised on a dairy farm. After four years in the Navy and trying his hand at a couple of trades, he settled in as a self employed remodeling carpenter for 31 years. He and his wife moved to Florida in 1998, where he continued his career. He began writing poetry in 2009 .

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Inner Calm--By George L. Ellison--England

Inner Calm

When I first felt this woodlands balm
It filled my soul with inner calm
My mind let all my thoughts run free
To compose  inspired poetry

To be at one with mother earth
To hear the stream, see spring’s rebirth
See blossoms bud on branch and stem
In my hideaway from mayhem

To think of naught but verse and rhyme
Enter my world time after time
To smell the scented woodland air
Be contented without a care

Against an oak tree trunk I lean
Feel the centre of my being
As an inner calm takes its hold
My thoughts touch new ideas so bold

My pen rests on the open page
As I look at my words so sage
I taste a berry and peruse
Newly written text I did choose

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!

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Peggy Dugan French and ayaz daryl nielsen--United States

whom wonders embrace

By Peggy Dugan French and ayaz daryl nielsen

badger-bearded, sparrow-winged trail guides
wind quietly whispering, taking in the view
cherry blossoms and birdsong across a meadow
a lone hawk gliding overhead
melodies from ancient trumpets
sprinkling over the misty valley
five small raccoon behind their mother
scurrying ahead of me on the trail
an older us whom wonders embrace
fresh scent of pine stirring memories
retelling the magnificence
of all that has come before

A Veteran’s Christmas Wish--By Robert A. Hall--United States

A Veteran’s Christmas Wish

Each year when Christmas comes around again,
I pause on Christmas Eve to take a dram
Of whisky, and I think of absent friends,
And Christmas in a place called Vietnam.

I think of boys who never had the chance
To see their kids on Christmas Eve at play,
Their lives were spent that freedom might advance,
From Valley Forge right up through yesterday.

They fell at Belleau Wood and Normandy,
At Gettysburg, at Iwo and at Hue,
They gave their lives to keep our people free,
And never saw another Christmas Day.

So take a moment from your festive joys,
To think of soldiers who were young and true,
And say a prayer on Christmas Eve for boys
Who gave up all their Christmases for you.

Published in Old Jarhead Poems, Leatherneck and Poetic Voices. Note that “Hue” is pronounced “way,” and Scotch Whisky is spelled without the “e”!

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.

Friday, December 5, 2014

Moonshadow--By Maureen Sudlow--New Zealand

(tanka prose)

No moon tonight, just a few pale stars between the dark shadows of the trees.  A Morepork calls monotonously across the paddocks, and there’s a thump on the veranda as the neighbour’s cat does his rounds.  In the lounge, the dog snores on, oblivious.  I can’t sleep, and there are words scrambling through my brain, urging me to somehow write them down.  I take a torch through to my study, tripping over the dog’s ball in the hallway as I go.  Before I get back to bed a rooster is crowing from down in the valley.

harsh cry
of a Morepork
soft feathers
between the trees

(The Morepork is the New Zealand native owl.  Legend has it that it comes to warn of a death in the family.)

Maureen Sudlow is a member of the New Zealand Poetry Society, and lives in the Kaipara, in the North of New Zealand.  She loves poetry, photography and writing for children.  She has published a children’s picture book Fearless Fred and the Dragon and has written for various on-line journals and magazines.

Celebrate--By Gerald A. McBreen--United States


Because I love the sound of children
laughing, Christmas is my favorite time.

Because children love Christmas so much
they hold on to it as long as they can.

The countdown starts before the twelve days.
Each checked off day, builds suspense.

November is a slow poke, I look for ways
to wind it up, spin through it like a top.

Just like little hearts, I wait for Christmas too.
It gives me a chance to be a kid again.

Recall Christmases past
box up new memories

shelter them in my heart
to share with you next year

Gerald A. McBreen found poetry after he retired from the US Postal Service. He discovered he had a flair for romance. He has been publishing for ten years with True Romance and their related magazines. He is the coordinator for Striped Water Poets. They sponsor an “open mic” every first Wednesday of the month. They also post 'Poems on Posters' around the area. In 2009 Pacific, Washington celebrated its 100th anniversary, and he was appointed Poet Laureate. (2009 - 2013)

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Tanka--By Robert Henry Poulin--United States

into autumn fields
gathering dried withered weeds
all the vase can hold
I am with tears filling heart--
cancer taking you away!

on a stormy day
out far out to sea let go
from this little box
ashes on the wind let fly
all, all, all of you!

Love, before you went
and you let go to go away
my love whispered
for you to know
          you my love were bliss!

Robert Henry Poulin has been writing the small genre: haiku/senryu/tanka/Korean Sijo for 15 years winning Modern Haiku Best of Issue Senryu, awards in Tanka and Sijo and published two books of haiku: The Last Leaf Decides and Haiku Art Book. He is Vice President of Colt Press, Helping New Authors Stand Tall. He has been published, his more than two thousand poems, in USA and Internationally, winning awards in Japan and world wide. Poet Poulin resides in South Florida, USA.

Tuesday Afternoon in November--By Jan Oskar Hansen--Portugal

Tuesday Afternoon in November

Well this is, the ending of another day I’m looking out
of the window the road is clean and tidy after rain.
The sun is coming out of hiding and strews golden dust
on the window ledge, it is a sort of thank you since I’m
taking care of a sunray I found huddled behind the gas
bottle in the back yard. It was too cold for it to get back
so I put it under my bed – I need only one blanket now-
so there are times being kind can be helpful.

The sunray, not talkative, hides behind the china I bought
for my daughter’s wedding only I never had a child; it
was a dream I mistook for the real thing; but never mind
the cleaning lady likes to drink tea and pretend she is
a grand dame. It is darker outside than inside so I light the fire,
drink a cup of coffee, at this end of a beautiful day

Jan Oskar Hansen is a published poet from Portugal.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Sands of Time--By James Rasmusson--United States

Sands of Time

The wind has swept the sands of time
to form its stately dunes,
breathing forth on rippled earth
to sing celestial tunes.

The flea has walked the sands of time
and left his humble trace,
tiny flecks of dust have shifted
from their natal place.

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.

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Michael Todd and Anna Donovan--United States

Love Always

By Michael Todd and Anna Donovan

Around you I'm unsettled,
alert and dulled
on this double edge
of passion and restraint.

Memories of the future,
Destined to lie unclaimed.
Those who will know no glory,
Merely be forgotten names.

I see saw on the axis of you,
your eyes the epi center
of all that was and is to be.

What might have been, was not.
Destiny and fate unaware.
Misdirected glance, words unsaid,
No perfect union to declare.

That I would've never laid eyes on you,
that I would've known and shared
every moment since childhood.

Still, press on in purpose,
In due time, final bell to sound.
No comfort in the shadows.
Exact freedom, lest be bound.

That I could proclaim this love
on resolute banners
to the brisk beat of galloping horses,
that I could hide this love
to the rhythm of pall bearers carrying
the remains of royalty.

For all of my misgivings,
This shallow world to see.
Know in my heart, what could happen,
She may well someday find me.

Because all the moments have conspired
with each other to lead me through the mists
into the sudden clearing of your arms.

Haibun: Time Passages--By Angelee Deodhar--India

Haibun: Time Passages

While packing books to send to friends in different countries, today I am back in that time when he would help seal them with cello tape, label them and then make a list of all the people they were being sent to. He didn’t complain about this tedious task even when he had to sit with one leg straight out, stiff from surgery, which left him unable to bend his knee…he enjoyed the geography of where the books were going…and loved to collect the stamps which came with gift books from different parts of the world.

Soon it will be two years since he passed away and now these brown paper packets which I pack clumsily with stiff fingers, carry away more than books…
                                            the jazz of an
                                                                April sky

 Contemporary Haibun Online July 2013, vol. 9, no 2

Angelee Deodhar, an eye surgeon by profession is a haiku poet, translator, and artist. She lives and works in Chandigarh, India. Her haiku/haibun/haiga have been published internationally in various books and journals, and her work can be viewed on many websites. To promote haiku in India, she has translated six books of haiku from English to Hindi, which she distributed for free. These bilingual books include: If Someone Asks: Masaoka Shiki's Life and Haiku (2005),Classic Haiku: A Master's Selection, edited by Miura Yuzuru (2006), Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: 100 Poems by 100 Poets (2007), Children’s Haiku from Around the World–A Haiku Primer (2007), Indian Haiku (2008), and The Distant Mountain: The Life and Haiku of Kobayashi Issa (2009).

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Within His Light--By Erich J. Goller--United States

Within His Light
( Sedoka Suite)

With a faith filled heart
build a ladder to the stars
strive to rise above each tide

stars that shimmer bright
whatever the skies above
there are floods we must endure

live each precious hour
yesterday has come and gone
treasured days passing away

give it greater calm
never fear the coming days
find strength for every task

search within your heart
with comfort and compassion
place or moment doesn’t matter

walk within His light
and scale all the mountains high
where love and contentment reign

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,

Childhood Memories--By Beth Winchcombe--England

Childhood Memories

The aroma of hops
wafting forth, as I
pass the High Street Brewery!

The unique white suspension bridge
with slatted wooden walkway,
where the river flows beneath -
puts fear in my childlike heart!

Grandparents live nearby,
in their quaint cottage
reflect an image of quaint shops
full of candy in jars.

Candy, my mouth salivates,
Granny quells my longing for candy-
she buys me some to take home -
she loves me, I love her!

The nearby park, a square corner
cordoned off with swings.
A playground full of happy delight
for any child or parent... birthplace;

Beth Winchcombe is now a retired housewife and enjoys writing poetry, also painting in oils.  She lives in Derbyshire, England.

Monday, December 1, 2014

Sunrise-Sunset--By Joyce I. Johnson--United States


The sunset glows in the wide Western sky,
placed there by the Master from on high.
Reds and golds of various shades
are splashed in mounds of beauty
on his huge blue canvass.
I watch as sun drops
over the edge
until it
sinks in
it will rise
from behind peaks
into Eastern sky.
Once again reds and golds
are brilliantly painted on
the clear sky with abandonment
No mortal painter has access to
the magnificent colors of the Lord.

Joyce I. 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 celebrated her 96th birthday in July of 2014.

Haiku--By Ramesh Anand--India

distant hill
a river carrying
the spring

calm mist
          the cow bells

peak hour . . .
a flock of sparrows pass
the evening moon

autumn sky
patches of twilight
in the falling leaf

lake tide
a duckling returns
to the moonlight

Ramesh Anand is a engineer from Bangalore, India. He works for Philips healthcare as a manufacturing test strategist. His haiku, tanka and haiga have appeared in 15 countries and translated to 8 foreign languages. He released his first book of haiku poetry in 2012 called Newborn Smiles, published by Cyberwit. Akita Sakigake Shimpo President Award, Honorable mention in International Matsuo Bashō Award, Dr. Sandeep Chauhan Commendable Prize by RLP Award 2013 are his latest awards. He is a member of IN haiku group and blogs at



        Douglas L. Ace--United States
        Suchoon Mo--United States
        Sara R.Vogler--United States
        Anne Curran--New Zealand   
        Barbara Tate--United States
        Doris Culverhouse--United States
        Marianne Szlyk--United States
        Elizabeth Kral--United States
Please welcome them to our community.  We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Israel, Malawi, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, Portugal, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Tunisia, Turkey, 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 January column by December 25


Stacy Savage released a new chapbook anthology called Mother Nature’s Trail. The proceeds benefit Wolf Creek Habitat. More information on the book is available at

Tom Davis and Old Mountain Press offers wide variety of eBooks at I Wonder Why a Poetry and Prose Anthology Free at Kindle Store December 20. url

Peter Dome released his first book of poetry called Love, Life and Inspiration, a collection of poems written from the heart. It is suitable for everyone with a wide range of topics including, nature, wisdom and spirituality. Peter hopes his book will bring a lot of
pleasure to others. It is available at

Maureen Sudlow has a poetry book Antipodes coming up for release in early December. More information will be available on her website

Maralee Gerke has published a new book of poetry called A New Lexicon. If you are interested please ask for more information at

Sheri Stanley has opened a new web site and invites you to visit at: Please leave comments and visit often.

Shloka Shankar has a poetry page on Facebook called 'Shloka Shankar: a rasika's musings'. To read more of her poems, please visit:

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

John W. (Bill) Williams published a science fiction book that he also illustrated called The Dream Hill.  To order copies from Xlibris Company call 1-888-795-4274 or go to  The website provides sample pages of the book for interested readers.


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

ayaz daryl nielsen's print publication bear creek haiku is always open for postal submissions, mail poetry to bear creek haiku, po box 3787, boulder, co, 80307, 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

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.

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 $5 an issue or $20 for a 4 issue subscription. Checks should be made to cash.  Foreign contributors should pay $10 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 1/21/2013.  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. 

Sunday, November 30, 2014


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.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Stradivarius--By David Austin--United States


Deep inside
Curling, rippling through the grain
This woody depth of tone
Singing a carver’s art
His blade so sharply honed

Brilliant, but sweet the tone
Reaching out to furthest ears
Fulfilling fond nature’s source
The forest
Those many hundred years

Its magic still a puzzle
What hidden source had guided Stradivari’s hand?
The wood, the varnish, shape
All wed together
By an oh so perfect plan

Yes, a masterpiece complete
Needing but virtuoso skill
To plumb the depth
Release the thrilling voice
Its inner will fulfill

David Austin is professional violinist and teacher, who communicates through poetry. He has played with the Cincinnati Symphony, taught at Colorado College and various public schools. He is a published author, who has been writing poetry and novels for over 40 years. His pride and joy is a shelter in which he feeds and cares for animals.  David is a member of Poetry Soup.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Sign of the Cross Over the Chest--By Jacob Shaver--United States

Sign of the Cross Over the Chest

the body on the tip of his tongue
white staleness passes to the gut,
turning from having fasted all morn
to start anew, his hunger suppressed
he resolves to do better—
sign of the cross over the chest

a delicate sip from the golden chalice,
red blood flows thick,
intoxicates corporal extremities
the host now in the guest
she will sin no more—
sign of the cross over the chest

parishioners take of this plain supper
then pass through the cathedral pews
like blood flowing in their bodies
they commune together but leave alone
to do good in the world—
sign of the cross over the chest

Jacob Shaver, a Denver native and Phoenix resident, in addition to writing poetry, essays, and screenplays, is an independent editor, and a lead moderator for the Central Phoenix Writing Workshop. His collaborative participation in the art of crafting Renhai as well as his solo efforts are enlightening and fulfilling. He likens writing Renhai to playing Sudoku with words, and gives thanks to John Daleiden for introducing him to this art form.

Christmas Magic (for Trudy)--By Michael Todd--United States

Christmas Magic (for Trudy)

A box of heirlooms we look over, in a closet in the hallway,
A shelf of tapes and records, wait patiently for their time to play.

Their time has come once more to assume their annual relevance.
As each finds the light, and sheds light on memories, past tense.

Procuring special, significant Christmas tree ornaments annually.
Had we only known, we were gazing at crystal balls... facsimile.

Christmas cards, as by-products, accompanied gifts of major stature.
Wishes, signatures, serve to remind of loved ones' sentiments, pure.

Some trinkets evoke bygone memories, others provoke, reminisce, query.
Time and space are granted these, having earned their place, varied.

With most, I know the drill, follow order, little left to surprise.
Never quite prepared for the end result, as anew, I gaze into your eyes.

Though we have reached a place in time, and our space, foundation sound.
Still see the future in our union, having built what is us, on solid ground.

The same stockings hang on this staircase, dwellings change, not the home.
Same hands hold each other, unique to us, work steadfast toward our gloam.

I loved you then. I love you now. All that is about you is all I'll ever be.
I say it now, as I said it then. Merry Christmas to us, to you and to me.

Shackles and encumbrance of obligation, whether great or small, realized,
Transcended. Supernatural agent... Christmas Magic, evidenced in your eyes.

Michael Todd aka Myke Todd has been writing and posting stories and poetry on social networking sites since 2006. He can currently be found at his dedicated poetry site...

Fished Up--By Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson--Canary Islands

Fished Up

Woke Up
Got Up
Run Up
Set Up
Cast Up
Hooked Up
Caught Up
Fished Up
Packed Up
Cleaned Up
Cooked Up
Ate Up
Days Up!

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.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

A Lazy Winter’s Day--By Maurice J. Reynolds--United States

A Lazy Winter’s Day

A frosted window
touched just right
with a hint of chill
that the winter season
provides. All the land
properly dressed
with a blanket of snow,
looking so pretty
in the stillness of cold
on a lazy winter’s day.

Maurice J. Reynolds is a freelance writer who has had material published in various publications.  He is the owner of To God be the Glory! Publications, a literary ministry that produces the poetry publication Creative Inspirations.  More information can be found at:

Atmosphere of Heaven--By Charlene McCutcheon--United States

Atmosphere of Heaven

On the morning of a clear spring day, I eagerly awaited
the appointed time I would again enter His Holy House.
Arriving early by design, I walked the sacred grounds.
Red and yellow tulips plus pink begonias, interspersed
with bouquets of blue lobelia and little purple pansies,
lined the walk-ways invitingly to the wide Temple doors.
Mesmerized by the loveliness of such intricate beauty,
I closed my eyes and inhaled the heavenly fragrance;
musing, if Heaven has a scent, it has got to be the same.
A sweet sense of peace permeated the air and I felt
surrounded by love as I entered into the joy of my Lord.

Charlene McCutcheon is a 73 year old, wife, mother of seven, grandmother of thirty and great-grandmother of 14. She has just discovered her voice through poetry within the last few years. Her former ways of expression have been through the media of arts and crafts. Her desire to share herself with others for their benefit has been the motivating factor in all her endeavors. She loves life, work, play and most of all people.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Dad’s Hands--By Carl "Papa" Palmer--United States

Dad’s Hands

In the cafe booth his son asks,
Dad, what do you see
when you look at your hands?

Palms up, palms down, open, closed,
bent, scraped, swollen and raw. Dad
answers, These hands are not mine.

He looks across the table
at this young man’s hands,
smooth, strong, flexible, straight.

You have my hands, Son.
These hands that I have on
once belonged to my father.

Someday, way too soon, you’ll see
that your son will have your hands,
and you, Son, will have mine.

Carl "Papa" Palmer, retired Army, retired FAA, now just plain retired, lives in University Place, Washington. He has seven chapbooks and a contest winning poem riding buses somewhere in Seattle. Carl has been nominated for the Micro Award and Pushcart Prize.

MOTTO: Long Weekends Forever

I Thank You, Lord--By Helen Dowd--Canada

I Thank You, Lord

I thank You, Lord, for common things--fresh air, and waters clean;
For butterflies and flowers bright; for trees and grass so green,
For all the birds and bees and bugs; for worms and wiggly things;
And even for the spider, Lord. What a splendid web she strings!
I thank You for the special things—far more than I could wish—
My husband, friends, a cozy house; my dogs, my cats, my fish.
I’m glad for this great country where I’m free to worship You,
Where everyone is welcome to express his point of view.

I thank You, God for precious things--like happiness and love;
For sending down Your only Son to earth from heaven above.
Christ cancelled out my debt of sin; He settled up the score.
I thank You, Lord, for all these things, and many, many more.

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.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

I Link Therefore I Am--By Richard Sponaugle--United States

I Link Therefore I Am

I’m a loner,
and a drifter.
Mankind’s morals
disgust me more
each day and night.
But when I feed
birds in the park,
and read of a man
who kills boys,
I know I’m linked
to all mankind
by time and space;
but bound most
by the fact that all
God’s children sin.
The best of us
sin less and beg
for mercy more.

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. 

One’s View Point--By Rhoda Galgiani--United States

One’s View Point

Thoughts come to one's mind
bringing clarity to the subject at hand
Wipe away the webs and let His light in
a brightness you will forever see -
As you, continue your stride in faith...

Rhoda Galgiani is a published Poet and Author of two books, Expressions from the Inside Out and No Snow for Johnny - a Child’s Story listed at or Rhoda is a retired senior that delights in maintaining her own website entitled Expressions Poetry Journal which is dedicated to the world of poetry. Come visit her at -

Monday, November 24, 2014

What Shall We Do... --By Jan Henson--Turkey

What Shall We Do...

‘What shall we do today?’
My inner voice said
‘Let’s go kick Autumn leaves
Golden and vivid red’

Through barren trees we trod
Crunching sounds underfoot
Of those leaves of old
By winds gently put

‘What shall we do right now?’
My inner voice said
‘Let’s go home for some tea
And butter with bread’

Sitting by the fireside
Warming our numb toes
Munching with such delight
Wrapped in cosy throws

‘What shall we do later?’
My inner voice said
‘Give thanks to Ma Nature
As we fall into bed’

Jan Henson has written poetry for a few years. She finds it an enjoyable experience.  When she attended school in England (in the ‘50’s) poetry seemed such a dry medium and she wasn’t all that impressed.  After school, she became a hairdresser and continued the profession after her marriage and birth of her four children.  When her youngest was three, she started working nights at a nursing home.  She realized her passion for the profession and became a nurse.  She worked in the healthcare industry for 20 years.  After her children were grown, she retired to Turkey where she currently lives.

The Sunset--By Anne R. C. Neale--United States

The Sunset

As the sun slowly sinks below the horizon,
And darkness slowly sends dark shadows on the ground.
You can sit and become mesmerized with its beauty,
As the sun slowly disappears without a sound.

The beauty and the solitude that you can find,
Is wonderful as you watch the day light end,
Taking time out of your busy day, to see it,
Is a tranquility you can find in life, Amen.

There's so much beauty if only we would take time to look
And see the Glorious scenes that God creates,
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
But sunsets and sunrises are all really great.

Anne R. C. Neale is 85 years old.  She taught outdoor education for 20 years.  Anne still works at school as crossing guard.   She has sent six free poems daily to 165 people for the past 18 years. She been writing poems since the age of 8 and has all of them in albums.  She resides in New Jersey .

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Yesterday’s Joys--By Andrea Dietrich--United States

Yesterday’s Joys

Yesterday’s joys are more than a few.
In my mind they reside endlessly
like bright recollections rosy in hue
or the notes of a sweet melody.

Sorrow and pain won’t burden me, for
yesterday’s joys are more than a few.
Rich in blessings, I’ll never be poor.
Happy memories carry me through.

The “good old days” end; along comes the new,
and so much of it also is sweet!
Yesterday’s joys are more than a few.
With the new ones, my soul is replete!

Sweet recollections never will cease,
for no matter what strife may ensue,
I know in the end, I will find peace.
Yesterday’s joys are more than a few!

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.

He Knows--By Lanette Kissel--United States

He Knows

He is aware of the tiniest sparrow,
knows when it falls from the sky.
He knows the situations which sadden me,
that which can make me cry.
Knows there are times my faith falters,
times when I have to question why.

He knows each and every single strand
of hair upon my head.
He knows the troubles and worries that plague me,
and the words that have gone unsaid.
Knows the situations which frighten me,
that which fills my heart with dread.

He knows the day, the hour, the minute
when I am destined to leave this place,
to enter into my heavenly home
where I will finally see His face.
And I know the blessings of knowing Him,
that He fills my life with His grace.

Lanette Kissel lives in southern Indiana with her adopted Yorkie-Poo, Benjy. She enjoys writing Inspirational poetry, essays, articles, and some secular fiction. Her work has been published in small print publications and in online magazines. Some of her fiction has been published as e-books at Red Rose Publishing.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Lest We Forget--The Poppy--By Jane Richer--Canada

Lest We Forget--The Poppy

In Flander's field where courageous soldiers lie below
there I am planted besides the crosses row by row.
To forever be a reminder of the brave ones that died,
my face is sad; the darkest black as you look inside.

I wear a red velvet gown; to remind you of the blood that was shed,
I hear every cry and feel the tears that are dropped upon my head.
I am there as a reminder; to those families of brave ones gone,
that their sacrifice; led to freedom and a brand new dawn!

Jane Richer is a poet and writer who lives in Alberta, Canada. She is published online and in print. 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.

Passage from The Gift of You, The Gift of Me--By Nila J. Webster--United States

Passage from The Gift of You, The Gift of Me

Thank you for life
And death
And life again

For the seed of hope
Born of each sad end

November is my beloved mother's birth month, and I know she always held close the sacred gift of hope, no matter what.

Nila J. Webster has been writing since a young age, thanks to the encouragement and support of her beloved mother, poet jani johe webster. In the last six months, Nila has donated over 23,000 picture books in her mother's honor, with more to come. If anyone knows of schools or hospitals that would like to receive a picture book donation, please let her know at

Friday, November 21, 2014

"Stepping Stones"--By Colan Hiatt--United States

"Stepping Stones"

Sometimes our plotted course in life
Is altered by a sudden turn
The days routine, must then give way
A new approach, we have to learn

It's never pleasant at the time
We could permit despair to reign
But a greater burden then we'd know
Just added stress, and increased pain

A better way it seems to me
Just use the fragments that abide
To buoy us to a higher plane
The issue then, is thrust aside

Life doesn't always give it's best
Even though so hard we try
A learning process can be found
Amid a task that would defy

So take courage when turmoil prevails
Remember that you're not alone
When mountains loom across our way
just let them be a "Stepping Stone"

Colan Hiatt resides in Mt. Airy, NC. with his wife. A retired electronic technician, he has been writing for several years. Most all the poetry, is derived from observing "down-to-earth" events that occur around us. A personal "mini-story" is often associated with the majority of compositions. Usually a metaphor is found with spiritual implications that portray God as the ultimate solution to life's problems. To direct the reader to this "Source", is the desired goal.

A Fruitful Life--By Barbara Siekierski--United States

A Fruitful Life

I am with you…

Planted firmly
on the ground,
you will take root
and produce many
good things.
You will sprout
and receive my light.
You will withstand
every tribulation.

My love will
carry you…

Barbara Siekierski is a writer from Swarthmore, PA.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Tanka--By Shloka Shankar--India

a blue sky
bursts into silence...
these aches
feel so familiar now
as I let them go

(First published in Issue 1 of Frameless Sky) 

paint summer hues...
the labyrinthine
wanderings of my heart
in this wilderness

an empty nest
dangles from the branch...
still hoping
to revive what we had
so many moons ago

Shloka Shankar resides in India, and works as a freelance writer. A contributing poet in over half a dozen anthologies such as The Dance of the Peacock, Traversal of Lines, Family Matters, Emanations IV, and Rainbow Hues, among others, Shloka has also seen her poems published in journals like Ekphrasis, Writers Asylum, The Literary Yard, Urban Confustions, Wordweavers, Verse Wrights, Miracle-ezine, and Cafe Dissensus.

Sister--By David Fox--United States


There's a special bond between us
It's something no one else can take
For whomever gets between us
This bond shall never break.
It's like we've signed a contract,
In which the terms are "For Life":
To be there for your sibling
In good times and in strife.
Whatever shall become of us,
Whether it be famine, fortune, fame,
You'll always be my sister
And I'll love you just the same.

David has been published most recently in Smile, Poet's Digest, The Pink Chameleon, Creative Inspirations, Pancakes in Heaven, The Shine Journal, The Jokester, Weekly Avocet, Aphelion, Poet’s Expresso and Forte Green Literary Review. He publishes and edits The Poet's Art, a print journal that accepts family-friendly poetry.  Contact him at for more information.