Editor's Thoughts/As Leaves Turn--By Karen O'Leary--United States

Dear Whispers’ Friends,

Tomorrow we turn the page to another year.  Being a part of our community of talented people is a gift.  You have enriched my life with your support and encouragement. We cross borders with our words, stretching hands, sometimes when people need it the most. 

As Leaves Turn…

…the turns I make

define my moments

define my journey

define my inner core

…and when the final

leaf turns, I hope it

         matters

Your words define moments, pieces born of life experiences.  The emails I get from writers and readers is a testimony that what you write matters.  We are a community of a wide array of views with writers as young as 12 and some in their 90s. As poetry moves from generation to generation we have the opportunity to grow and encourage others.

So, as your leaves turn into 2017, I hope you will continue to journey with Whispers. Thank you for making a difference.

Blessings,

Karen O’Leary

Whispers’ Editor

After Christmas--By Marianne Szlyk--United States

After Christmas

Late-risers’ strings of lights
wink white and red

at the empty boxes
wrapped in foil.

The wire reindeer
topples in the wind.
 

One flake drifts past
a waxy magnolia tree.

Let it snow.

(Previously published by Ishaan Literary Review)

Marianne Szlyk is the editor of The Song Is... , an associate poetry editor at Potomac Review, and a professor of English at Montgomery College. Her second chapbook, I Dream of Empathy, was published by Flutter Press. Her poems have appeared in a variety of online and print venues, including Silver Birch Press, Cactifur, Of/with, bird's thumb, Truck, Algebra of Owls, The Blue Mountain Review, and Yellow Chair Review. Her first chapbook is available (for free) through Kind of a Hurricane Press: http://barometricpressures.blogspot.com/2014/10/listening-to-electric-cambodia-looking.html   

We are Never Alone--By Jean Calkins--United States

We are Never Alone

I’m searching for the Christmas Spirit,

lost, along with dear ones

who have journeyed before us

to a more forgiving place.

Their leaving weighs heavy

on my heart, but there are

those who remain, to share

my pain. Hand in hand

we walk the ageless path.

The Spirit of the Holy Days

weaves its message around

us, lifting us on wings

of eternal joy, lightening

our steps, easing our way

into the Season of Promise.

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 published The Jokester, by email, a 2-page monthly of clean humor. Many of our Whispers’ contributors were published in various editions. October 2016 was her last issue.  

The Voice of Reason--By Marcus Omer--United States

The Voice of Reason

If heroes proved with tools of war

themselves for ending strife,

let us with pen in hand implore,

that we give hope for life.

The storms of life can wrath unlock,

as shadows steal the day.

No harbors found among the rocks,

but quietly in the bay.

A lighthouse stands on farthest cay,

it through the night will shine.

Silently points the leeward way,

the lost seamen to find.

The voice of reason will be found

to carry forth the fight

and save from self the wayward bound,

all men to glorious Light!

Marcus Omer became 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.

Sea of Tranquility--By Robert P. Hansen--United States

Sea of Tranquility

It is so quiet here,

so utterly still.

The sun is brilliant

on the horizon.

Everything is gray

and lighter gray.

Patches of black

shadow.

Rocks sprinkle

the dawn like

broken marbles.

The dust is thick

and unblemished—

all but for a single,

tiny footprint.

Robert P. Hansen thanks those of you who nominated his science fiction novel Please Don’t Eat the Penguins on Kindle Scout. Unfortunately, they decided not to publish it so he has done so himself. He has also published the first book of his new series, Aftermath, which is a sequel to his Angus the Mage fantasy series. For links to online retailers, visit his blog at: rphansenauthorpoet.wordpress.com   

Joy To The World--By Sara Kendrick--United States

Joy To The World

J  oyfully the angels did say
O  n this earth peace this day
Y  es, on those His favor rest

T  o  lowly shepherds story told
O  n a journey with their newly foaled

T  o Bethlehem their quest
H  apply were they when the Child saw
E  ntered in Mary's heart without flaw

W ords shepherds spoke of angels
O  n that night heaven's glory shone
R  evealed to them; God's son made known
L  ove released to nations
D elighted Hallelujah, Hallelujah sings

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.

I Still Believe in Christmas--By Zona Rowand Lawrence--United States

I Still Believe in Christmas

A baby in a manger

And all it means to me

Welcoming the stranger –

Wise men on their knees

Cold, clear nights and snow drifts

Singing fireside carols

Snowmen made with yarn mitts

Church bells Christmas rung

Filling the crisp night air

Sleigh bells and horses’ neighs

Children’s laughter and echoes pair

Around the Christmas tree

Lights of love glow brightly

As families love each other

Remembering the past

When others shared the day

I still believe in Christmas

The baby, wise men and joy

The wonder in little one’s eyes

The gift of life to girls and boys

After many years as a stage performer, Zona found she enjoyed writing. She studies at Paradise Valley Community College.  Her work has appeared in several anthologies at the school and elsewhere. In 2004, she won $20,000.00 for her poem, “Indiscriminate Sestina.”  She and her husband, Jack, are creating a Diet by Poetry Journal to help whittle away those pounds with a little rhyming fun. Last year in the Paradise Review her poem, “If He Had Hit Me”, won third place and her one act play, “A Shaggy Dog Story”, won second place.

In Memory with Love--Beth Winchcombe--October 2, 2015--England

Floating Spirit

Angels

Wings flutter

Shimmering gracefully

Through space

And time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Whispers Family,

It is a pleasure to share another poem in tribute to Beth. Sadly, we said good-bye to her in October 2015.  Beth embraced the Whispers community, supporting and caring about others with her kind heart.  She was a blessing in my life.  Beth shared her gift of words for monthly activities, collaborative poems, individual poems, and uplifting comments for other writers. She was our September 2015 Poet of the Month, an honor she richly deserved. She touched my heart. Thank you, to her husband, Geoff, and Jack Horne for allowing me the honor of publishing this poem.      –Karen O’Leary, Editor

Since Love Embraced Me--By John Polselli--United States

Since Love Embraced Me

What have I become since love embraced me?

More an ocean than a reservoir,

A chalice that is lifted, or a key

That full unfastens the sweet mystery you are.

How steep the moon climbs silent in the sky,

Yet neither distance nor the endless sweep of space

Shall wrest you from my heart or nullify

The nectar of the dawn that is your face.

We run in laughter down the narrow trail

While holding hands, as sunlight, shedding gold

Upon the grass, a secret realm unveils

In which we shall not languish or grow old,

But live forever in the land above

Within each other’s arms, contented and in love.

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.

A Christmas Scene--By Gerald McBreen--United States

A Christmas Scene

A lone star twinkles way up high

and the little city seems to sigh.

Softly swirling Christmas snow

covers the darkened streets below.

Roof tops crowned in cotton lumps

almost concealing their chimney stumps.

People bundled against a chill

make their way home on Evergreen Hill.

Windows full of colored lights

catch the eye to their delight

The city shimmers in a silver glow

all prepared for a Christmas show.

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. 

Gardening His Own Future--By Gareth Culshaw--Wales

Gardening His Own Future

He had been working with us.

Then it was a van, tools, a loan,

wheelbarrow carting his life.

Spades waited like oven peels

longing to palm away some earth.

He snipped roses, lopped branches

shoveled dirt, edged lawns

as he ploughed a garden in his mind.

The rake that pulled in the sun

scraped away the leaves

scratched green blades of litter.

The past was being composted

leaving behind the sweat of a logo.

His hands were free, released

from the knot of a tie.

Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales, he loves the outdoors and uses it to help him write. He has been published in various places in the UK and USA.

Hymn--By David Sermersheim--United States

Hymn

let the song possess you

its sound pass through you

let the air move round you

light burn into you

let us sing with joy of simple things 

and good dwelling within

let us move gently when we tread

touching all in cheer and fond memory

carrying images of those who

came before and rest in peace within

David Sermersheim taught at The Hotchkiss School (Ct.) for 33 years.  His poems have been published in The Aurorean, Ancient Paths, Sacred Journeys, Iodine Review, Poetry Pacific, Miller’s Pond” and other journals and quarterlies. He was a MacDowell Fellow and has a book, Meditations, listed on Amazon.  He lives in Westbrook, Connecticut.

This Moment, This Second--By Barbara Tate--United States

This Moment, This Second

I'm looking for forever

but finding just today

with trees dripping last night's rain

what am I to say?

Forecast calls for ice tonight

even though it's spring

read it in the Almanac

what will tomorrow bring?

No sense looking past right now

not for me to say

just this moment, just this second

living for today.

Barbara Tate is an award-winning artist and writer, originally from Akron, Ohio, currently residing in Tennessee.  She is a member of the Haiku Society of America & Gulf Coast Writers Assoc. "I want to wish each and every one a very Merry Christmas and an inspirational and productive New Year.  I am so grateful to the wonderful people I have met through my writing.  Thank you all.

Good Neighbors--By Daniel Turner--United States

Good Neighbors

About head high, two bluebirds built a nest
Outside my window, in a young oak tree
He built the frame around her nursery
Last spring she chirped a lover's sweet request

It wasn't long before their home was blessed
Five little ones that chirped incessantly
They raised them to live independently
Last week they left no forwarding address

But I have hope they will return in spring
Rebuild even remodel, either way
Each day they said hello and were so kind
How beautiful it was to hear them sing

Perhaps, next year I'll ask if they can stay
Because good neighbors are so hard to find

Daniel Turner is 60 years old and lives in Arkansas. He has been writing poetry for approximately 40 years. He loves animals and all things having to do with nature. Now retired, he has traveled over 3 million miles as a long-haul truck driver, worked in the oil fields of Texas and on the Mississippi River on a tow boat. He loves to read and watch old black and white movies.

YOUR EDITORS' GREETING

…may you

                                      walk in the light

                                                          be in the light

         By Karen O’Leary                               and share that light

Dear Writing Friends,

We would like to wish you a wonderful season with family and friends.  It is pleasure to work with so many gifted artists.  We hope you will continue to share your poetry for Whispers  in 2017.

Blessings always,

Karen O’Leary--Editor                    Michael Escoubas—Activity Editor

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... http://myketodd.blogspot.com/  

Holly and Mistletoe (a haibun)--By Neena Singh--India

Holly and Mistletoe

First winter in the US, out for a walk on a cold December morning trying to catch the sun through now bare trees which have a solemn calm beauty and stillness. 

I walk on admiring the Christmas spirit visible everywhere... holly and mistletoe wreaths and lighted-up trees. In a garden, huge white cutouts of infant Jesus in a crib surrounded by Mary, Joseph and two angels, another has a snowman with a red cap and striped scarf.

A white US Postal Service van stops nearby and the young mail-man with  a friendly smile holds out a parcel, "I see you walking often...you are the one with a baby" Oh yes, I'm the granny..."but you don't even look that old" he grins.  

Sometimes, I meet other walkers with their dogs - I stop to ask about their pets and see the smile spreading to their eyes! Today I see a lovely corgi being led by a young long-haired guy and I think he looks like a geek - bespectacled, pyjama-clad and pulled out of bed by his pet. Stopping, I whistle and the dog strains its leash to come towards me. I am right - Michael is a data developer and the dog is a girl - Scout. She leaps up to me for a pat and as I bend to hug her, removing my gloves, she jumps up to give me a wet lick.

Oh! how I miss my own beloved labrador, Rumi back home in India.     

twelve days to Christmas

the fragrance of apple pie

spreading warmth

_____________

Neena Singh is the author of Whispers of the Soul - The Journey Within, a book of poetry showcasing her passion for nature and life. The book and e-book are available on Amazon. She is the creator of ‘soul2soul’, a well-loved group on Facebook, committed to spreading peace, goodwill and light through theme-based discussions among members. She has received awards for her contribution in banking, management and social work. Neena lives with her husband, Prithpal and her golden lab, Rumi, in Chandigarh.

Distant Shores--By David Williams--England

Distant Shores

The tide stroked at my toes.

It reminded me how… gentle

Your touch used to be.

A gilded sun enveloped the glass sea,

Glistening; the way your

Eyes lit a darkened room.

Waves,

             Crashed.

Semi-translucent images

Come and go on a waning tide

Ebbing as only life itself can

To remind me that tomorrow

There will be no kiss…

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.

The Caterpillar--By Kathleen Murphy--United States

The Caterpillar

The caterpillar is pretty homely,

I think it must be sort of lonely.

No one wants to get very close,

It's wiggly, squiggly and kind of gross.

Along the grass as it's progressing

It isn't very prepossessing,

It moves like separate moving parts

And it's covered with little hairy warts.

It best resembles, to explain,

Something pulled out from the drain.

But at some point, don't know when it'll happen,

It makes itself a cocoon to wrap in.

It stays in there til months go by,

Then it comes out a butterfly.

So if you don't think your life is moving

And that you need some self-improving,

You can be a better you,

Look what a caterpillar can do.

Kathleen Murphy grew up in Dayton, Ohio, and graduated from Ohio Dominican College with a B.A. in English.  She has worked as a secretary, teacher's aide, pizza cook, waitress, respite worker, group home assistant manager and writing tutor.  Kathleen has been writing for 35 years and has published poems and articles in small magazines.  She has also written newspaper feature stories and a humor column.  She currently writes for websites and has sold over 700 articles and blog posts.  

haiku and more...By Pravat Kumar Padhy--India

haiku and more…

iceberg--
the ocean melts
its agony
____________

fallen leaves--
the beggar loses
his address
____________

hummingbird--
the song wakes up
with brightness
____________

sunset--
the elephants carry
forest on their back

____________

*(In closing, a breath

of faith…and hope)

God’s name--
the sky opens to
one and all

*your editor’s thoughts

Pravat Kumar Padhy hails from Odisha, India. He did his Master of Science and has a 

Ph.D from IIT-Dhanbad. His short poems, haiku, tanka and haibun have appeared in various venues such as Chrysanthemum, Simply Haiku, Red lights, Ribbons, tinywords, Modern Haiku, Lilliput Review, Under the Basho, The Heron’s Nest, Shamrock, A Hundred Gourds, Bottle Rockets, Asahi Haikuist Network, Frogpond, and Acorn. He is a recipient of Editor’s Choice awards, Special and Honourable Mentions. Songs of Love: A Celebration published by Writers Workshop, Calcutta is his latest collection. http://pkpadhy.blogspot.com   

Santa's Visit--By David Fox--United States

Santa's Visit

A boy asked his mother if he could meet Santa Claus

He said he had "just cause"

"Well", said his mother with a little cheer,

"Maybe you'll get to meet him for the first time this year."

The boy stayed up until his eyes were red

Waiting for Santa until his mother said,

"It's time for bed"

A little later he heard a "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

So, he ran downstairs as fast as he could go

He thought he saw Santa or was his mind playing tricks?

When he only saw a glimmer

Because Santa was too quick

He left a note saying "Keep up your cheer;

we might get to meet for the first time next year."

David Fox has been published in over 100 places, including journals, websites, newsletters, blogs, and posting boards.  He has been published in the U.S., U.K., Canada, India, Finland, and the U.A.E. but is also interested in learning about websites or journals that take e-mail submissions from other countries.  He edits the magazine, "The Poet's Art" (see the ad in the Whispers column).

haiku--By Robert Epstein--United States

healing mass

in her arms

the sleeping toddler

______________

jet plane

unseen through gray skies

orphaned

______________

old haiku journal

the faint smell

of eucalyptus

______________

hard rain

this time I forgive

the barking dog

______________

November morning

I see my grandparents

so young on Ellis Island

______________

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.

The First Signs of Winter--By Bibhu Padhi--India

The First Signs of Winter

The light is fading, slowly,

over the tops of low-roofed houses,

the narrow, darkening lanes.

Shadows of various kinds converge on 

the west-facing frost-glass windows, 

keep us very much to ourselves.

A lone cloud moves towards the north

and then settles over the young, 

topmost branches of a tree.

The last light is leaning

over the windows now, along with

the shadows of an earlier time.

The seaside town is waiting for 

its tame winter, which might perhaps

appear tomorrow, with the September rains,

or, as it sometimes does, 

might not, just might not

appear anywhere at all.

Bibhu Padhi has published ten collections of poems. His work has appeared in magazines and anthologies throughout the English-speaking world. He lives in Bhyubaneswar (India) with his family.

A Hidden Candle--By Colan Hiatt--United States

A Hidden Candle
Matthew 5:15 *

Prophets of old, proclaimed the advent
Of Christ, the coming King
God incarnate, His only Son
Deliverance from sin, He would bring

He mystified elders in the Temple
His knowledge they didn't understand
Rulers soon became aware
This was not an ordinary Man

He cleansed; healed, and rebuked sin
And bade those He served, to "go tell"
Many we could enumerate
Like the Samaritan woman at the well

"I Am the light of the world "
This, - Jesus did proclaim
My followers shall also walk in light
They are to portray a candle flame

Never to be hid under a bushel *
But on a pedestal, hoisted high
Your good works should be evident
That your Father will be glorified

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.

WHISPERS’ DECEMBER ACTIVITY—LEARNING THE NAANI

Dear Whispers’ Friends,

December’s writing activity has been, Learning the Naani form. The response was excellent. Thank you to all the talented poets who sent in poems. Please spend some time unwrapping and savoring these Naani treasures.

Michael Escoubas, Whispers’ Activity Editor.

_________

Apple Canning

Red Delicious,

Braeburns, Honey Crisps,

slow cooking in cinnamon,

spiced with nutmeg—ah! Bliss.

Michael Escoubas, United States

_________

Ornament

You pirouette

in a dazzle of sun

and rainbow mist,

Painted Bunting, arcing in the sky.

Michael Escoubas, United States

_________

Winter's Touch 

Tempest of white raging

horizontal snow drifting

winds howl and scream

my bones chilled on ice.

Ken Allan Dronsfield, United States

_________

Intangible

Irrevocably irresistible

vague and abstract,

love, hope and faith,

ride the winds of destiny.

Emile Pinet, Canada

_________

       

Incontrovertible

Both undefinable

and undeniable,

hope resides in the realm

of possibilities.

Emile Pinet, Canada

_________

Speak Softly

Raise your words higher;
not your booming voice.
it's rain that grows flowers,
not a thunderous tempest.

Ken Allan Dronsfield, United States

_________

Gap Year

increasing self-awareness
learning about
different perspectives
a year of experiments

Pat Geyer, United States

_________

Altered States

there are the ups the downs

then there are the back agains

i grow big then small

ch ch ch ch changes

Pat Geyer, United States

_________

rustling 

bushes rat on spirits 

hiding from my steps as

I walk these sunset hills

whistling at new starlight

r soos, United States 

_________

firelight

music snaps as dry twigs

vanish in the rhythm

of flames entertaining

marshmallows on a stick

r soos, United States

_________

Redemption

Where does Beauty dwell?
In the Raja’s palace?
Behold the lotus
Blooming in fetid fecundity

David Palmer, United States
_________

Nesting

Moments I cherish
Are but stepping stones
Foundation layers
Building our chambers of love.

David Palmer, United States

_________

Embodiment

The eyes are the window

The soul, the foundation

Covered by a heart

A house of love

Langley Shazor, United States

_________

Ascension

Sunflowers bloom

Large yellow-brown petals

Reach for the sky

To drink in more sunlight.

David Fox, United States

_________

Glory

Basking in God's glory

I take all His splendor

I bathe in His wisdom

Re-born once again.

David Fox, United States

_________

Sacred Bumblebee

Sunlight wakens the damp
Wings of my faerie friends
Journey to my beanpole
Blossoms...magic of birth

James Marshall Goff, United States

_________

Butterfly

A butterfly caught
By my camera
Flutters to his mate
His progeny flies

Sara Kendrick, USA
_________

Scientist

A butterfly caught
By the scientist’s net
Penned, genus named
Progeny extinct

Sara Kendrick, USA

_________

The Joy of Innocence

The baby foxes play,

Rolling tumbly wumbly,

So innocent and happy

They must be angels' pets.

Kathleen Murphy, United States

_________

Christmas Time

Christmas is the time of year

To wish your fellow man good cheer

To wish peace and love

To all of mankind

George L. Ellison, England

_________

Christmas Cheer

Many hearts stir 

With Christmas cheer smiles we wear

Lights, wreaths are hung on each door

Merry Christmas one and all

George L. Ellison, England

_________

Raw

As a true vegetarian
I dislike meat
Cruelty makes my soul
feel raw

Inge Wesdijk, the Netherlands

_________

Between the Poles

Magnets on two levels pull

And tear at me—

One draws me down to deep despair

On up to ecstasy.

Mary Monical, United States

_________

Jolly Cheer

Cedar scent my roommate

I embrace a lovely dream

Chickadees wreathing my bed

Singing dee dee dee

Elizabeth Howard, United States

_________

Tinkling bell

Do you hear the bell?

Not Rudolph and sleigh

Nor an elf on a shelf

But Mary's little lamb

Elizabeth Howard, United States

_________

Sleeping Spring

As winter beckons in the garden
love nestles down,
waiting to be woken
by sun blessed days.

Annie Jenkin, England
_________

Cherished

Curling around my heart
slipping through the seams
your smile greets me in the morning
fulfilling all my dreams.

Annie Jenkin, England

_________

The Breeze Whispers

Ash leaves rustle~~Mom’s chimes

tinkle~~Dad’s rocker creaks…

Home~~humming our song

with rain~~miss them…

Karen O'Leary, United States

_________

Tundra Toast

Memories, locked in a

golden summer. Winter grapple:

the stiffness of

the honey jar.

Ralph Stott, England

_________

Tales from Paraphernalia

Amongst my many

souvenirs, I overlook this

ornamental parrot,

perched on a wall.

Ralph Stott, England

_________

Reboot

In our hands linked
with shimmering beings
are the hands that free us
to dream again and again.

Jean Colonomos, United States
_________

Tears

When brother mocked
my poem, I cried. The words
ran together as if to escape,
so I let them. 

Jean Colonomos, United States
_________

Yule

The world turns full cycle,
dark-half gives way to light.
Giver of Life is born anew,
and warms frozen earth.

Mary A. Couch, United States
_________ 

First Thoughts

Reading my email

in the early hours...

I start composing poems

instead of going to sleep

Mary Gunn, Ireland

_________ 

New Beginnings

Like spring bulbs

preparing to bloom

I make New Year plans, then wait

until it's time to push forth

Mary Gunn, Ireland

_________ 

At Christmas

Secrets in the cupboard

Laughter 'round the corner

Recipes remembered

Memories cherished. Smiles.

Candace Armstrong, United States

_________

Bedtime Epiphany 

Close your eyes and rest

upon the notion:

Love will claim us all.

How, then, can you be sad?

Candace Armstrong, United States

_________

After Cana

Old waitress

fills jugs with water again

then gives a cup to the head waiter

who tastes wine of patience.

Barbara Robinette, United States

_________

Washing the Clothes

Pour soap into washing machine. 

Load worn clothes. Adjust settings. 

Close the lid.  Turn it on. 

Go read a book.

Barbara Robinette, United States

_________